


All It Takes Is One Mistake, But Several Can Go A Long Way

by EmmaLeeWrites



Series: Nightmares [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Anyone in their right mind would promptly lose it, Corporate bullshit, Gavin is fearful for his life, Gen, He has to deal with aggressive animatronics, Mix of Canon and Fanon, Mostly fnaf 1 but there's hints of... others, obviously, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaLeeWrites/pseuds/EmmaLeeWrites
Summary: Gavin gets a new summer job at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza while waiting for University in the fall. Upon turning up for his first night, he realizes that not everything is going to be sunshine and roses, and worse yet, there's nothing he can do about it.
Relationships: Gavin Free & Michael Jones
Series: Nightmares [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767145
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	1. First Mistake was Taking the Job

Gavin arrives at work twenty minutes before he has to. There’s nobody to greet him at the darkened facility; he’s the only night guard, and nobody else has bothered to stay back to welcome him for his first night on the job. He enters through the front doors, whistling, and shines his phone flashlight around to find his way through the building. He’d been told when he got the job that from close to open the restaurant runs only on generator power-- and only in certain places, one of which being the security office.

He’s not really sure why he went for this job-- a nighttime security officer at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. He’d never been to the place as a kid, so it’s not like he has any fond memories. He didn’t even know the animatronics had names, other than Freddy, until the manager had told him. And he’s not exactly fond of being alone in the dark, either. And he’s about as far from threatening as a person can get, too, as far as his childhood bullies are concerned.

But, well, having to decide between a job as a cashier at a fast food restaurant or a night guard at an entertainment facility? Night guard, absolutely, no question, with the only reason being that he doesn’t have to deal with people. And besides, all he needs is a summer job before University starts up in the fall. It’s easier to get hired by a place that gets most of its business during the summer than at a place that’s busy year-round. Places busy year-round expect the workers to stay year-round, not just three months.

Gavin settles into his chair. It’s old, torn, and stained, but at least it swivels. God forbid they replace the security chair. Gavin turns his flashlight off. The room is lit by a barely-working light bulb, but he’d rather deal with the dim lights than use all of his phone battery just with the flashlight. He won’t have much to do; nobody is going to try to rob the place. The manager had told him as much. And honestly, who would even want to rob a Freddy Fazbear’s? There’s nothing but stale pizza and old animatronics. So, it’s going to be a long night. He’ll need as much phone battery as possible if he doesn’t want to fall asleep on shift.

The light flickers. He sighs. “Looks like I’ll be buying a new lightbulb tomorrow, if they aren’t going to replace it.”

When the clock shows 12, he turns the computer on. It shows the video feeds of each of the rooms, with a little map of the layout of the restaurant on the right. He taps through them, not really paying attention. The feeds are grainy and monochrome, but he supposes they get the job done. In the bottom left, the screen has two details: power left and power usage. He’ll have to keep an eye on that, then.

The phone rings. He yelps, then claps his hands over his mouth like he’s going to get in trouble for making noise. He stares at the phone, debating, and then it plays by itself.

_ “Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact _ [ _. _ ](https://genius.com/Phone-guy-five-nights-at-freddys-1-phone-calls-annotated#note-13710388) _ So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?” _

“Okay.” Gavin says, even though this is obviously a taped recording and not an actual live phone call.

The phone guy continues.  _ “Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. U _ _ m, " _ _ Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced.” _

_ Um, what? _ Gavin looks out the two doors on his right and left.  _ Why would I get injured or killed? _ He suddenly very much wishes he had friends to call. He has Michael, but he’s definitely dead asleep right now and nothing can wake him.

_ “Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay.” _

Gavin rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

_ “So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87.” _

His heart leaps to his throat, and then drops straight down to his feet. “The what?!”

The phone guy continues.  _ “Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?” _

Gavin leans over and closes the left door. Swallowing, he closes the right, too. 

The phone guy keeps talking.  _ “Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if  _ _ they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear sui _ _ t. _ _ ” _

Gavin swallows. “What the hell have I got myself into? This was supposed to be an easy summer job, not a live action survival horror game!”

Talking out loud only marginally helps the anxiety bubbling up. He looks at his hands, beginning to shake and sweat, and clenches them. Fuck this.

_ “Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.” _

“Wonderful.” Gavin mutters. “Great.”

_ “Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you  _ _ tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night.” _ The phone clicks.

He stares at it, waiting for a ‘Sike!’ or ‘Just Kidding!’. Nothing happens. He glances at the monitor, showing grainy feed of camera 3, the supply closet. Nothing moves, nothing makes any sort of noise. Exactly how things should be, then. Gavin vaguely remembers seeing the animatronics standing together on stage-- but what camera was that?

The posters and drawings on the wall in front of him ripple as the oscillating fan moves back and forth, just barely missing those on the edges. It’s almost hypnotic, the unwavering speed that the fan moves back and forth at, the breeze somehow managing to be neither gentle nor harsh.  _ I wonder if the fan takes up power...? _

Wait.

‘Close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power.’ Gavin looks at the doors, closed tight. He looks at the clock. 12:45. Power level: 87%. Power usage: two bars. 

“Obviously this is just a joke, right? Play a joke on the new guy. Because I’m here… alone… in the middle of the night. Yeah, that’s it. I’m not actually going to be attacked by the animatronics.” Gavin opens the doors. For good measure, he turns the hall lights on to double check.

He turns back to the computer. He flicks through the feed. Each camera he inspects as closely as he can, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. The kitchen camera isn’t working. The Pirate Cove curtain is still drawn tight. The stage, as far away from the security office one can get while still being in the building--

Bonnie is missing from the stage.

“How d- how- wot?” Gavin trips over his words. With a rising sense of panic he flicks through the feed again.

He finds Bonnie on camera five, backstage. The bunny animatronic stares at the camera, mostly hidden in the shadows. Something heavy settles in his stomach like a stone. If it’s his heart, because his heart certainly doesn’t seem to be staying in his chest like it should be, then it’s got a great deal heavier.

“Okay.” Gavin mutters. “Okay. I’ll just watch the camera, and when Bonnie moves I’ll follow him, and when he gets close to the doors I’ll close them. Easy. I only have to last until 6 AM. That’s--”

He looks at the clock. 1:05.

“That’s five hours from now. Okay, I can do this. Clearly, if people actually died here this place would close down. Clearly. I can do this.” Gavin says to himself. “Unless the other animatronics move and I don’t notice.”

He flicks to camera 1A, the stage. None of the other animatronics have moved a muscle. Yet. Chica, the bunny, stands next to Bonnie’s vacated space. Freddy stands beside her, farthest from the camera. He groans. A bead of sweat runs down his face, making his nose itch. This is not what he signed up for. Not at all. He wanted a nice, easy, summer job where the most difficult part was waking up in time for shift, not-- not killer animatronics.

A look at camera five shows that Bonnie hasn’t moved yet. He checks camera 1C, Pirate Cove. One animatronic, the fox, what was his name..? Foxy? Foxy lives in Pirate Cove. He doesn’t sit on stage with the rest of the animatronics. Even though Pirate Cove is out of order... doesn’t mean Foxy isn’t.

The curtains are ever-so-slightly opened. Gavin whimpers. Good god. He doesn’t even know what Foxy looks like. Is Foxy going to be all endoskeleton, with no fuzzy exoskeleton left to cover the harsh metal of his insides? Will he be in better shape than all the other animatronics, just because he’s been left alone for who knows how long?

Gavin grits his teeth and goes back to camera 5. The video fuzzes into view, and... Bonnie is nowhere to be found. “Shit. Shit.”

He frantically pushes buttons, hardly even bothering to check which ones. There’s no Bonnie to be seen on cameras 1C, 7, 6, or 3. Which leaves the 2s and 4s, unless Bonnie has backtracked to 1A or 1B. With a growing sense of panic, he checks the 2s and 4s, finding, of course, nothing. 1A just shows the rest of the animatronics, with no sign of Bonnie. 1B- an empty dining area.

“Where the hell is Bonnie?” Gavin says. His voice has fallen into ‘Whiner’ category, and he honestly can’t be bothered to try to force his voice back to normal. He has way more important things to focus on than how his voice sounds. Besides, he’s well within his rights to sound like a whiny child at the moment.

His hands shake so hard he can barely press the buttons. Again, he checks 4A and 4B. There’s nothing to be seen but empty hallway. Gavin eyes the left doorway. Is it possible Bonnie’s managed to walk to the door so quickly? Without him noticing? Tentatively he turns the light on. He breathes a sigh of relief when all he sees is the back wall. Doing the same to the right hallway brings the same results.

He checks camera 6, the kitchen. Still no video, but... there is audio. Something bangs around in the kitchen, just barely audible. It sounds like someone walking through a set of hanging pots and pans. Bonnie is in the kitchen, then. Good.

Gavin runs a hand through his hair. He sits back in his chair, swiveling left and right and left again. It’s only 2 AM. How the fuck is he supposed to last until six? He’s already at 50% power.  _ Do I really need to use the cameras? I’ll know when the animatronics show up at the doors, surely. And even if I don’t... turning the lights on briefly to check should work. _

Even with that reassurance, he checks on Pirate Cove. This time the curtain is pulled back all the way and Foxy-- it takes him a moment to see where the animatronic is. He’s barely noticeable in the darkness, but Gavin can make out his glowing eyes and the shine of light off a hook hand. He looks frozen, like Gavin caught him in the middle of something and he’s stopped dead in surprise.

Stopped dead in the middle of a frenzied dash offscreen for no reason that Gavin can see, and it’s almost like he’s staring dead into the camera specifically to creep him out. He turns to camera 6, anything to get away from the stare. The blank screen greets him, as does the absolute silence. He stares at it, somehow feeling nothing more than a bone- deep exhaustion.

He’s not entirely sure how long he sits in silence. He doesn’t bother to check the cameras or the doors. Honestly, he’s not even thinking about it. Just thinking about those eyes, and the horrible grin, and how much he really does not want to die tonight.

“Bonnie’s not in the kitchen anymore.” Gavin remarks to himself, finally finding the strength to wrench himself from his thoughts.. “That’s fine, that’s-”

Something like the sound of footsteps running down the left hall starts up. A chill runs down his spine. He throws himself at the door, slamming his hand on the button to close the door. It slides down with a thud, and then something else thuds into it barely a fraction of a second later.

The door groans as the animatronic attacks it. Despite how much he wants to be as far away from this place as he wants, he doesn’t step away. His knees buckle and he slides against the door.  _ What the fuck, what the bloody hell, what in the shitting shit am I supposed to do-- _ Gavin blinks tears out of his eyes and they slide heavily down his cheeks. He presses his forehead into the cold metal of the door. It’s grounding, but not nearly enough to actually help. Distantly, he’s aware that the banging has stopped.

He stands. His legs are practically jelly; getting to his chair is quite possibly the hardest thing he’s ever done. Harder than moving to America the month he turned eighteen, alone. Harder than the time he’d wrecked his bike, breaking his wrist in the process, and had to drag it almost two miles home.

He sits in his chair. It creaks under his weight. He looks at the time. “3:30. Okay, that’s... something. Oh, and look at that. I have 20% power to somehow last me the next two and a half hours.”

He wipes tears from his face.  _ How did I manage to spend an hour sitting at that door? No wonder the power is so low. I kept the door closed. _ He turns the left light on and opens the door. No animatronics jump at him. He turns the light off again. A chill runs down his spine as another thought occurs to him.  _ How have I not been killed by Bonnie yet? The right door is still open. _

He leans over and turns the right light on. He sees nothing but an empty hall. If his legs felt more solid he’d poke his head out and take a look down the hallway so he doesn’t have to use the cameras, but... he’d probably collapse halfway there and be useless for the rest of the night. He turns the light off.

The computer screen blinks at him like a demon tempting him to sin. He desperately wants to flick through the cameras, checking on Bonnie and Foxy and the others that are hopefully still on stage. But doing that uses power, and using up the power will mean certain death, and he definitely doesn’t want to face certain death.

Gavin reaches for his phone and finds nothing. He’d put it in his back pocket, right? Then where did it go? He looks down. The rust- red of his uniform seems somehow fitting for the occasion, suddenly. Easier to hide bloodstains if blood happens to seep through. If the uniform isn’t torn and shredded, then, well, might as well give it to the next guy, so long as it fits them. Rust red for rust red blood.

His phone is definitely not in his pocket, and not on his chair, either. He looks around. It’s not on the floor by the left door, either, where he’d collapsed and sat for an hour. It’s not on the floor underneath his seat, not caught in the wheels of his chair. Gavin growls and checks the right door for animatronics. Nothing. He does the same for the left. Nothing.

Therefore he turns his attention to the desk. It’s a cluttered mess. Papers are spread across it, held down by the corners of the monitor, the phone, and the fan, so the breeze from the fan doesn’t blow them away. Some papers, crumpled into balls, are easily batted away and tossed into the trash. He still can’t find his phone.

The clock shows 4:15. Thankfully the power has barely drained, showing a meek but reassuring 18%. Could be worse. Could be better. None of that matters now. Just what he has and how long he has to use it for. That and the goddamn animatronics that are out for his blood.

“Tomorrow I’m wearing a mask or some shit.” He says as he checks the left door and then the right.

“Why the hell would I even come in tomorrow?” He asks himself as he adjusts his position in his chair.

“Because I signed a bloody contract,” he tugs on the sleeve of his uniform. “And if I don’t come in they can bloody sue me.”

He turns the computer off. It’s not like he’s using it, anyway. Just staring at the blank screen of camera 6.  _ Maybe I should unplug the fan? _ Then again, the heat in the room is nearly unbearable as it is. The last thing he needs to to be overcome with heat exhaustion and pass out. And the clock is too valuable to unplug.

Something sprints down the left hallway. Gavin closes the door without looking, sure that if he did he would freeze in place from terror and then the animatronic would throw itself at him and he’d be dead long before they shoved him in a suit. The animatronic bounces off the door, and this time it lets out an unholy screech. Gavin whimpers and clasps his hands to his ears.

Bang,  _ Bang _ ,  _ BANG!  _ The door shudders under the blows but, like earlier, doesn’t give. And then again, the animatronic dashes off to go back to wherever it came from. Gavin opens the door and flicks on the light.

He screams and closes the door again. Whatever animatronic had run off had immediately been replaced by Bonnie, and the eight foot tall animatronic had grinned cheekily at him from the near shadows. Looks like he’s lost the door, then. Absolutely wonderful. On impulse, he checks the right door. It is, like always, empty.  _ Why won’t they come to this door? _

Wondering how much power he has left, he turns the left light on and opens the door. It’s empty. Biting his lip, he pokes his head into the hallway and looks both ways. Bonnie is nowhere to be found. _ Aren’t animatronics supposed to be bolted to the floor or something? So they don’t fall over and break? Clearly these guys missed the memo. _ Then again, they also missed the memo on ‘don’t kill people’ and ‘don’t shove people into suits’.

He groans and presses his palms into his eyes. He still doesn’t know where his phone is. He doesn’t know why the right door is being ignored. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to leave once his shift is over-- but he’ll have to be, because clearly the day shifts aren’t actually having problems with the animatronics so at some point, they’ll stop attacking and he’ll leave.

There’s a loud, deep, whooshing noise, and Gavin looks up from his palms just in time to watch the lights go out. He whimpers, realizing exactly what's happened. He’s lost power and he has absolutely no idea what time it is. He looks around, disoriented. His left might be left, unless he’s swiveled too much in his chair and it’s actually behind him. It doesn’t matter much, because he can’t see anything so it’s not like he can dodge out of the way of a grasping animatronic.

As he looks over his right shoulder, music starts playing. He whips around, curling in his chair and backing as far away as he can from the glowing, terrifying eyes of Freddy Fazbear. The glow of his eyes seems to outline his face in an almost ethereal light. Yet with every note, his eyes blink out and on again; ultimately, the worst strobe effect ever.

Gavin’s mouth opens, and for a long moment absolutely no noise comes out. It almost feels like the music comes from his own mouth, the calming-creepy sounds of a music box reverberating from his own voice box. He runs out of breath and sucks in another-- and the music stops. He’s caught in pitch black and absolute silence once again, but this time he knows that an animatronic is only steps away. He shivers, cold and clammy despite the sweat drenching his uniform. The only sound he can make out is his own breaths.

Something fuzzy brushes against his hand, and he screams.

It moves away, or maybe he does, but he’s suddenly on the floor on his back and there’s something touching his arm but it might just be the wall or the chair, he doesn’t know, and he’s still screaming, screaming, screaming--

And then the whooshing happens again and every single light in the building turns on. Gavin slams his eyes shut. Excruciating pain flares through them and he clutches at them, covering them with his palms in an attempt to get away from the searing lights. He curls into a ball.

He’s not sure how long he lays there, a complete sobbing mess, but finally he pries his eyes open and uncurls. The hallway is empty and honestly, not nearly as terrifying in the day as it is at night. The animatronics are nowhere to be found. Gavin stands, steadies himself against the wall, and runs out of the building as quickly as he possibly can.

The early morning sun has barely risen. The empty parking lot seems to mock him. He hadn’t even driven. He’d taken a stupid cab to his stupid job and now he either has to walk home or look into the eyes of a cab driver and tell them no, he isn’t a druggie, he’s just a security officer at a kids entertainment restaurant and his dishevelment has nothing to do with drugs. And besides, he still has no idea where his phone is, anyway.

He staggers over to the dumpster, unlocking the fence around it. He barely gets the dumpster open before he vomits. It’s a horrible yellow-green color, filled with half-digested chunks of the last food he ate. He groans, wipes his mouth, and vomits again.

He closes the dumpster and starts the long walk home.


	2. Second Mistake Was Bringing The Hammer

Gavin unlocks his apartment door and walks in. Thank god he didn’t lose his keys along with his phone. He kicks his shoes off, watching them fly across his kitchen before slamming into the counter. He unbuttons his shirt, peels his pants off, and collapses onto his couch.

He doesn’t move for a long time. The sun is high in the sky, nearly directly above, when he finally crawls off the couch and makes his way to the bathroom to shower. While he waits for the water to warm up he stares at his reflection in the mirror. His face is haggard; his eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, his lip is bloody from biting it. He’s never seen himself look so pale before-- he looks almost like a corpse, bloodless and white and terribly disgusting.

He sniffs, spits in the sink, and gets into the shower. Afterwards he forces himself to brush his teeth and eat. Gavin pulls leftover thai food from his fridge and eats it cold. It’s tasteless. He eats it all, forcing himself to swallow even though the entire time he feels like he could vomit again.

The takeout container goes in the trash and he crawls into bed. He just needs some sleep, just a bit-- there’s absolutely no way he’ll last another night at work without sleep. But every time he closes his eyes he sees Foxy caught by his cameras and frozen mid-run, Bonnie grinning at him from the door, and Freddy’s face like a strobe light in the darkness. The screeching of the animatronic intermixed with Freddy’s music box echoes in his ear like nothing else...

Gavin wakes to pounding on his front door. He lurches out of bed, prepared to swing his fists at the attacker, before he realizes. He presses a hand to his chest, over his heart, and gulps in air. Outside the sky is a fading blue-purple. Dusk. The pounding continues. He pulls pants on, not bothering with a shirt, and walks to the front door.

He actually debates opening it, like somehow Bonnie or Chica or Freddy or Foxy had followed him home. But then a voice comes through the door, muffled but undeniably one he knows, and he shakes himself. _It’s just Michael. You’re home. You’re safe._

“Open up asshole! I know you’re home! I gave you time to sleep! Wake up!” Michael pounds on the door some more.

Gavin opens the door. “Hey Michael.”

“You look like shit.”

Gavin steps aside to let Michael in. “Yeah, there’s not much I can do about that, Boi.”

Michael drops his jacket on his couch and throws himself beside it. Gavin rubs his eyes and joins him. It’s a shitty thrice-hand-me-down that came from Michael about a week after they’d met. Gavin had been grateful then, but sitting on it now just reminds him of the soft fur of the animatronic when it had touched his hand.

“How was the first night on the job?”

Terrible. Horrible. The worst thing he’s ever experienced. It shouldn’t even be legal. He nearly died. He has to go back. _I should tell him._ “Fine, I guess. Sort of stressful.”

“What was stressful about it? You’re alone in the dark!”

“Exactly!” Gavin crosses his arms. “I’m alone in the dark. It’s scary, Michael!”

Michael snorts. “So why’d you take the job? You could’ve been a pizza delivery boy or something.”

“That’s your job, Michael.” Gavin smiles. He’s already feeling loads better than he did before Michael showed up. It’s like Boi knew.

_Speaking of knowing, why didn’t I tell him the truth?_ He thinks. _Because he wouldn’t believe me. Even if he did-- there’s nothing he can do. I signed contracts. I shouldn’t break them._

“I said _or something_.” Michael matches his smile. “So, when do you have off next?”

Gavin sucks in a breath. “Saturday. I got the weekend off.”

“Weird. You’d think they’d be more busy on weekends and need you to work then.”

“Gotta have some days off, Michael-Boi.” Gavin shrugs. “I already can’t wait, though.”

Michael snorts. “You have to work at midnight, right?” When Gavin nods, he continues. “So we have six hours before you have to work. Want to get dinner?”

“From where?”

“Lindsay’s, obviously. I can’t afford to go out anywhere.”

“So you’re going to invite me to your girlfriend’s house for dinner? Isn’t that weird?”

Michael punches him in the shoulder, but not hard. “You have to meet sometime, idiot. It’s not going to be romantic or anything. She just wants someone else to sample her cupcakes. You know me, I’ll eat anything.”

_I should get ready for work. I want flashlights, maybe an axe or something... where would I get an axe?_ Gavin nods. “Yeah, alright. You wouldn’t happen to have an axe or something, would you? A taser?”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Oh, you know. Just in case someone breaks into the place. They didn’t supply self-defense tools, you know.”

“Well I don’t have anything. Maybe Lindsay does, though.”

***

As it turns out, Lindsay makes spaghetti for dinner. Gavin can only eat a few bites before he feels too nauseous to eat. Still, when Lindsay offers a cupcake-- she has three different types: vanilla, chocolate, and lemon, each with buttercream frosting colored red-pink, blue, and green-- he takes it and eats it before he can actually think. It would be good, if he could actually taste things. He usually likes chocolate cupcakes and buttercream frosting.

“Want to bring one to work with you? Eat it when you need a pick-me-up?” Lindsay offers a red-pink frosted cupcake.

Gavin takes it. “Thanks. Guess I’ll just... carry it like this.” He sets it on the table. “Actually, I should get going. It’s already 8, and I have a few things to get ready before I go to work.”

Michael pipes up. “Yeah, he was asking about weapons. Do you have any axes, Linds?”

“No, I don’t.” For a moment she looks like she wants to ask, but then she gives her head a shake. “You know, wrenches make pretty good makeshift weapons! And hammers.”

Gavin blinks. “How do you know that?”

“I had to deal with a raccoon in my parents’ garage once.” Lindsay brushes a strand of hair out of her face. “I have a hammer somewhere-- I’ll go find it. Better than nothing!”

With that, she walks out of the room. Gavin turns to Michael. “No wonder you like her. She’s a bloody maniac.”

Michael smiles proudly. “She’s the best. You want a ride back to your apartment?”

“Yes please.” Gavin runs his fingers through his hair. “Hey, Michael?”

“Yeah?”

Gavin debates exactly how to say what he wants to say. He bites his lip, splitting the healing cut open again. _If I disappear check the animatronics. But never, never at night. Don’t let Freddy Fazbear’s fool you. I’ll be there, stuffed inside a suit._ “I, uh, lost my phone last night at work, so... if you try to call me I probably won’t answer. You know, it’s probably dead and all by now, so even if I find it tonight it won’t have power.” _Power. Fuck._

Michael stares at him. He shrugs. “Okay.”

Before Gavin can say anything else, Lindsay walks in holding a hammer. “Here ya go!” She drops it in Gavin’s lap.

“Ow.” Gavin says. He picks it up. “This thing is hefty.”

“I know, right? I call it Thor’s Hammer because it’s so big. I don’t even remember where I got it.” Lindsay laughs.

Gavin inspects it. It’s definitely bigger than any hammer Gavin’s seen before. It’s not exactly a sledgehammer, not even a small one, but it does almost look like a regular hammer- sledgehammer mix. “This’ll work. Thanks, Lindsay.”

“Tell me how it works!” Lindsay puts her hands on her hips. “Same with the cupcake.”

***

As the cab pulls into the empty car lot, Gavin hefts his bag over his shoulder. It has his hammer in it, along with two fair-sized flashlights he’d been able to find at the dollar store near his apartment and a whole lot of duct tape. He looks at the cupcake in his hand. _Just me and you and a bunch of killer animatronics, cupcake._

He pays the driver and steps out. He pulls his keys from his pocket and readies them as he walks to the building. 11:30. He has thirty minutes to prepare. That’s... not that much time. Then again, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of things to prepare. Gavin passes by the animatronics on stage. None of them move. If he didn’t know better he’d think they were off, but as the phone guy said: they’re always on. 

He settles into his office with only a little bit of comfort. It’s his safe haven for sure, but it’s not foolproof. One wrong move and he’s dead. The cupcake is sat on top of the speaker connected to the computer. Then he tapes the flashlights to the arms of his chair and turns them on. He brought replacement batteries, so they should last all night. This way he doesn’t have to use the generator power to check the hallways-- just turn his head. He pulls the hammer out last and sets it on the table. Gavin doesn’t really have any better place to put it, but he wants it out and ready to use at any moment.

Finally, he sits and waits.

At midnight the phone rings again. He jumps, an electric shock running through his body, and reflexively goes for the hammer. As the phone guy begins talking, he forces himself to calm down.

_“Uhh, Hello? Hello? Uh, well, if you're hearing this and you made it to day two, uh, congrats! I-I won't talk quite as long this time since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses. Uhh, it might be a good idea to peek at those cameras while I talk just to make sure everyone's in their proper place. You know...”_

“Wonderful.” Gavin says. He glances out the doors. He’s not turning that computer on for any reason whatsoever.

The Phone Guy keeps talking, oblivious to everything Gavin says and does. That happens when he’s reacting to a recording made who knows how long ago. _“Uh... Interestingly enough, Freddy himself doesn't come off stage very often. I heard he becomes a lot more active in the dark though, so, hey, I guess that's one more reason not to run out of power, right?”_

“Like I needed another reason.”

_“I-I also want to emphasize the importance of using your door lights. There are blind spots in your camera views, and those blind spots happen to be right outside of your doors. So if-if you can’t find something, or someone, on your cameras, be sure to check the door lights. Uh, you might only have a few seconds to react... Uh, not that you would be in any danger, of course. I'm not implying that.”_

Gavin glances out the doors again. His hand tightens on the hammer, but there are no animatronics to be found, yet.

_“Also, check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time. The character in there seems unique in that he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn't like being watched. I don't know. Anyway, I'm sure you have everything under control! Uh, talk to you soon.”_

The phone clicks, and turns off.

“Wait,” Gavin looks at the computer. “I have to turn it on? Who the hell came up with that idea?”

Still, he remembers the way Foxy had looked, frozen in time on the camera. He’s pretty sure it was Foxy that had run at the door those two times, too. So if he keeps the camera on Foxy... he doesn’t have to worry about the animatronic coming out of Pirate Cove.

A horrible groaning sound echoes around the office. Gavin snaps his mouth shut, convinced it’s his own whimper of fear. The noise doesn’t stop. Slowly, he looks to his right. There’s nothing in the door... but there is definitely something in the window. He turns his chair slightly left, and the flashlight lights the window up. Chica grins at him.

It’s almost scary, how calmly he reaches over and presses the button to close the door. It slams shut and the moaning stops. Gavin looks left. The hallway is empty. He forces himself to breathe and turns the computer on.

The first camera he checks is Pirate Cove. Foxy stares at the camera from between the curtains. It’s easier to see him now, rather than when he’s completely out but shadowed in the corner. Foxy’s jaw is wide open, like a few screws have come loose. It looks utterly broken, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about the possibility of getting bit. Parts of his abdomen and arm have been torn, letting the dulling metal of his endoskeleton show.

Gavin bares his teeth and checks the right door. Chica has disappeared to somewhere else in the restaurant, leaving the hallway-- at least what he can see-- empty. He checks the left door- empty. He swallows down a lump in his throat and turns the monitor off.

He looks left again. Right. He turns the monitor back on. Foxy is frozen, staring into the camera, completely out of the curtains. His head is tilted. Exactly the same position as the first time he’d seen the animatronic. A chill runs down his spine.

He’s going to die a horrible, bloody, painful death, and nobody will ever know.

“Please stay there, please stay there.” Gavin whispers. “I’m looking at you, you can’t move.”

Groaning comes from his left. He looks over. Bonnie grins at him. The worst part is, he can see a second set of teeth hiding behind Bonnie’s first. He jerks, hands scrabbling for his hammer with no luck. He leaps from his seat and closes the door. The groaning

d o e s n ’ t s t o p .

Gavin whips around. His chair has swiveled slightly, causing his flashlight to shine into the right window. Chica stares at him through it. Gavin shrieks his throat raw and leaps to that door, watching Chica disappear from the window as he does. The door closes, and for a brief moment, Chica knocks on it.

Gavin backs away. He reaches for his chair and collapses into it. He’s got Bonnie on the left, Chica on the right, Foxy ready to sprint down the hall at him. Freddy... he’s not sure. He looks at the camera. He must’ve hit something on the keyboard during his mad scrabble, because the screen is blank. Off.

He looks at his shaking hands. It looks like he’s got electricity running through his veins with how hard they shake. He presses them over his mouth so his fingers touch his ears and looks down in his lap. This is too much. Why did he come back? Why would anyone go along with this? The phone guy knew. Do the managers, the owners, the other employees know they work with killer animatronics? There’s a twinge of pain in his jaw from how hard he’s clenching it and he opens his mouth. He moves his hands to the desk.

He sucks in a shaky breath. Gavin picks up his hammer and opens the left door. Bonnie is gone. He looks out the right window. Chica stares at him, having gone back to her preferred place to watch him. He leaves the door shut.

Bonnie likes watching him from the door, then, and Chica will wait at the window. Check the right window for Chica, not the right door. And they definitely don’t seem to be going to the other sides, either... He checks the left door again. Nothing.

Gavin adjusts his grasp on his hammer. He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling tears well up. Why did he come back here? He’s such an idiot. _Idiot, idiot, idiot._ Something sprints down the left hall. He throws himself at the door, dropping the hammer onto his right foot in the process.

“Fuck!” He hisses as the door shuts tight. Foxy throws himself into it and scrabbles madly at it.

Gavin, meanwhile, falls to the floor and clutches his foot as pain radiates through it. He pulls his shoe off. Something dark and probably red leaks through his sock by his big toe. He wiggles his toes experimentally. The pain only gets worse, a lancing, aching, red-hot pain. His big toe barely moves.

“Fuck.” Gavin says again, more vehemently. “Fuck a duck!”

He tears his sock off. Blood drips onto the floor. His toe doesn’t seem to be bleeding all that much actually, just enough to be bothersome. Still, looking at it makes him feel queasy inside. He sniffs and wipes tears from his eyes with his sleeve. His gaze lands on the offending hammer.

“You’re a dick.” His throat is raw and scratchy. “Cupcake’s being more helpful, and all it's done is sit on the speaker.”

_I must be going crazy, talking to a hammer. Is it possible to go crazy so quickly? Do people even know they’ve gone crazy, or do they really think they’re perfectly sane and everyone else is losing it for not believing them?_

More blood drips from his toe, and he crawls over to the desk. There might be something in the drawers, he reasons. Some sort of cloth, or maybe if he’s lucky a bandaid. He knows he can’t just put his sock back on and wait for his toe to stop bleeding, because his nail is definitely going to come off. He doesn’t want it to catch on his sock or shoe. Nor does he want to bleed through his shoe and onto the floor.

The drawers are, of course, empty. Well, not really. There’s actually quite a few papers and other odds and ends of things in them; but, there’s nothing to wrap his toe in. Gavin looks at his toe, and looks at one of the crumpled paper balls. It’s better than nothing...

He uncrumples one, tears it into strips, and wraps his toe. He then wraps duct tape around that, and pulls his sock back on. Better than nothing. He’s still not sure he can walk on his foot though. Gavin slides his shoe back on and sits in his chair.

He checks the right window. Chica has moved on, and he opens the door again. Foxy has also definitely gone from the left door, but that doesn’t mean Bonnie has. He presses the button and stares into the hallway. He sees no animatronics.

Gavin runs a bloody hand through his hair and turns the computer back on. As it loads, he leans down and picks up the hammer from the floor. It may have broken his toe or something similar, but it’s his last line of defense. Better to have it than not. 

He looks at the clock. 2:00. Well... could be worse. He looks at the camera. It’s on Pirate Cove, showing Foxy who is once again frozen outside of the curtain, ready to dash. Gavin checks his doors again. Chica looks through the right window. He slams his fist into the button and the door shuts. Bonnie smiles from the left door. Gavin closes that door, too. He clutches his chest. His heart hurts, like it wants to leap from his chest and leave him behind. It can’t be normal. Distantly, he wonders if that’s what a heart attack feels like.

Gavin changes the camera to the stage. The only animatronic present is Freddy, which he expected. It’s still nice to know that Freddy hasn’t moved yet. He seems the most terrifying out of all of the animatronics. Freddy’s the biggest, the most known, he likes to move around in the dark. He has that music box that he plays right before he kills someone...

Foxy slams into the left door. Gavin shrieks, leaping out of his seat and immediately crashing to the floor as pain lances through his foot. He throws the hammer at the door and it hits with a satisfying thud. Gavin shivers on the floor. He realizes, suddenly, that Foxy has stopped banging on the door. It’s so much earlier than he usually does.

Gavin, very reasonably, doesn’t immediately open the door. He’s not sure if it’s a trick, or maybe throwing the hammer had distracted Foxy. He doesn’t trust that Foxy isn’t on the other side of the door, waiting. The banging starts up again, this time accompanied by Foxy’s screech.

Gavin grits his teeth. “Oh, fuck off you wanker!” He shouts.

The banging stops again, but this time he hears Foxy running back down the hall to Pirate Cove. Gavin blows a breath out through his nose and crawls over to his hammer. He climbs back in his chair. He looks at the right window. Chica’s gone. He opens the door. He checks the left door. No animatronics. Good.

He turns the computer back to Pirate Cove. The curtain is shut tight. Good. He shouldn’t have to deal with Foxy for a bit. So long as he checks it. He looks at the power he has left. 19%.

“Great.” Gavin bites his lip, thinking. 19% to last 3 more hours. He’s definitely running out of power again.

Gavin looks at his cupcake. It almost looks like the one Chica holds while on stage, he realizes. Except his doesn’t have eyes or a candle, and it’s actual food and not robotic. _I could bring candles and googly eyes tomorrow night and dress it up._ He blinks. Or he could just eat it like a normal person. What the fuck is wrong with him?

He checks the doors again. No animatronics. Foxy still hides behind his curtain at Pirate Cove. As he stares at the computer screen, though, it seems to glitch in and out. Gavin frowns, hitting the monitor lightly on the side. The screen goes out, comes back on, goes out again. Not like the kitchen camera, completely black, but instead a grainy, fuzzy, static from a feed error. He hits the monitor harder.  
  
  


**I̷̶̡̫̮̞̯͓͇͎͔̻̺̤̙̻̫̣̯͐̌̄ͯ́̃͟ͅŢ̫̫̥̞̖̦̼̮̙̩̤̰̲̙̜̗̖̱̳̐͂͗̈́̏̈́͗̆̔ͨ̀ͧ̏̚͘'̾͑ͦ̿ͪ̀͊̽̏́̀͏̛̛̛̠̰̻̙̙̜͚͍͓͔̰̝̞̥̝̲̱͟ͅͅS̡̗̻̜̖̞͍̜͈͍ͥͧ̽̈́͐ͫ̽̐̒̒͑̾̐ͥ ̷̡ͧͬ͐̅͟҉̧͇̮͚̙̙ͅM̤͖̲̯̟̌ͯ͋ͧ̋̌͋̀͒͑ͤ̄̆̋̍ͬE̺̦̯͚͉̘͉ͧ̔̾͋͜͞͞͠ͅ**

  
  


Gavin screams. He lurches back, slamming his knee into the desk. A horrifying version of Freddy’s face, complete with all-too-human eyes, flashes on screen with the words--

**I̷̶̡̫̮̞̯͓͇͎͔̻̺̤̙̻̫̣̯͐̌̄ͯ́̃͟ͅŢ̫̫̥̞̖̦̼̮̙̩̤̰̲̙̜̗̖̱̳̐͂͗̈́̏̈́͗̆̔ͨ̀ͧ̏̚͘'̾͑ͦ̿ͪ̀͊̽̏́̀͏̛̛̛̠̰̻̙̙̜͚͍͓͔̰̝̞̥̝̲̱͟ͅͅS̡̗̻̜̖̞͍̜͈͍ͥͧ̽̈́͐ͫ̽̐̒̒͑̾̐ͥ ̷̡ͧͬ͐̅͟҉̧͇̮͚̙̙ͅM̤͖̲̯̟̌ͯ͋ͧ̋̌͋̀͒͑ͤ̄̆̋̍ͬE̺̦̯͚͉̘͉ͧ̔̾͋͜͞͞͠ͅ**

\--Bonnie’s face, eyes gouged out--  
  


**I̷̶̡̫̮̞̯͓͇͎͔̻̺̤̙̻̫̣̯͐̌̄ͯ́̃͟ͅŢ̫̫̥̞̖̦̼̮̙̩̤̰̲̙̜̗̖̱̳̐͂͗̈́̏̈́͗̆̔ͨ̀ͧ̏̚͘'̾͑ͦ̿ͪ̀͊̽̏́̀͏̛̛̛̠̰̻̙̙̜͚͍͓͔̰̝̞̥̝̲̱͟ͅͅS̡̗̻̜̖̞͍̜͈͍ͥͧ̽̈́͐ͫ̽̐̒̒͑̾̐ͥ ̷̡ͧͬ͐̅͟҉̧͇̮͚̙̙ͅM̤͖̲̯̌ͯ͋ͧ̋̌͋̀͒͑ͤ̄̆̋̍ͬE̺̦̯͚͉̘͉ͧ̔̾͋͜͞͞͠ͅ**

\--Freddy’s face again, closer--  
  
  


**I̷̶̡̫̮̞̯͓͇͎͔̻̺̤̙̻̫̣̯͐̌̄ͯ́̃͟ͅŢ̫̫̥̞̖̦̼̮̙̩̤̰̲̙̜̗̖̱̳̐͂͗̈́̏̈́͗̆̔ͨ̀ͧ̏̚͘'̾͑ͦ̿ͪ̀͊̽̏́̀͏̛̛̛̠̰̻̙̙̜͚͍͓͔̰̝̞̥̝̲̱͟ͅͅS̡̗̻̜̖̞͍̜͈͍ͥͧ̽̈́͐ͫ̽̐̒̒͑̾̐ͥ ̷̡ͧͬ͐̅͟҉̧͇̮͚̙̙ͅM̤͖̲̯̟̌ͯ͋ͧ̋̌͋̀͒͑ͤ̄̆̋̍ͬE̺̦̯͚͉̘͉ͧ̔̾͋͜͞͞͠ͅ**

Gavin swivels the chair around, squeezing his eyes shut. His heart settles in his throat. “No no no no nononononononononono--” He sobs. His knee throbs, pain worsening with each pounding beat of his heart. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to go home to my bed and never have to come here again. I want to go home!”

He shouldn’t turn his back to the doors and the computer. He should at least watch death come, but god, he can’t do anything but curl into a ball in his swivel chair and wail like a child. He cries until he can’t cry anymore. Finally he uncurls and forces himself to turn.

He checks the doors- both are empty. The screen is still on Foxy, hiding behind the curtains at Pirate Cove. The terrifying images of Freddy and Bonnie have stopped. Somehow, he isn’t dead. His guts twist.

The right flashlight goes out. A moment later, the left one does too. Gavin sniffs and swallows back vomit. Slowly, he reaches for his bag for replacement batteries. He finds four, pulls them out, and twists the battery cover off on the right flashlight.

To his left, Bonnie groans.

Gavin reaches over and closes the door. The groan cuts out. He taps the flashlight until the two batteries slide out and fall to the floor. He slides the new ones in and twists the cover back on. He does the same for the left. With both flashlights good as new, he leans over and opens the left door. Bonnie has disappeared, gone to a new room to terrorize before returning to Gavin. Good riddance.

He checks the right door, seeing nothing, and promptly vomits all over the front of himself. An involuntary whine escapes his lips. He doesn’t even have the energy to try to wipe it off. He just slumps in his chair and lets the vomit soak into his clothes. He looks at his cupcake. It’s the prettiest thing to look at by far, red-pink frosting shining ever-so-slightly in the dim light. It’s not the worst thing to see before he dies.

The whooshing of the power turning off echoes throughout the restaurant, and suddenly the only lights he has are the two flashlights taped to his sides. He looks right, then left. Somehow none of the animatronics are near, not even Freddy. He picks up his hammer and holds it up, ready.

He swivels the chair around with his left food, spinning circle after circle. He has absolutely no idea what time it is or where the animatronics are. Yesterday Freddy had appeared the moment the power had gone out, and yet tonight-- this morning, whatever-- he can’t find any of them.

Maybe they know he’s ready to fight to the death to stay alive, and it scares them. If they can even be scared. He’d like to think so. He twirls around again, eyeing the doors. The hammer sits heavy in his hands, practically vibrating with energy. His guts twist more.

Somewhere down the left hallway, a music box starts playing. Gavin turns to it, keeping just so so that the light shines into the hallway. He looks over his shoulder. There’s none of the animatronics in his view, but clearly, Freddy is close. He looks right, turning so he can see in the window and then the door, but there aren’t any animatronics.

The music box chimes away. Gavin stands. His right foot throbs, making his knee weak, and he puts most of his weight on his left foot to combat it. He raises the hammer above his head and slams it into the desk as hard as he can. It’s metal, and barely dents, but the sound echoes like a gunshot. The music box stutters for a moment.

Gavin curls his lips into a sneer that he hopes looks braver than he feels. “Get away you smegging pricks! I have a hammer, and I’m not afraid to use it! You think I’ll run? No bloody way! I’m not dying tonight!”

The music box gets louder. Slow, steady steps make their way down the hallway. Each one brings Freddy closer. Each one sends chills down Gavin’s back. He looks right. Nothing. He looks left. Freddy watches him from just outside the main beam of light, just in his vision. The animatronic’s eyes have gone a glossy black and his mouth is open crookedly, similar to Foxy’s janky jaw.

Gavin growls. He raises the hammer again. “Go back to your stage!”

Freddy steps into the light. Gavin reflexively takes a step back with his injured foot. Pain lances through his foot. He puts the weight on his heel. He can’t breathe, shit, he can’t breathe, why won’t his lungs work-- Freddy takes another step forward. Gavin swings the hammer. It completely misses, being that there’s a good five feet between the two of them.

The music box stops playing. He vomits again, stomach acid running down his chin and clothes. His throat burns. He lifts his hammer anyway, and stares dead into the eyes of Freddy Fazbear.

Freddy laughs. The strange, inhuman deep laugh seems to come from everywhere at once. As he laughs, it cuts out into a sound like metal on metal, all heard through water. His voice box must be malfunctioning. Freddy takes a step forward. Gavin readies himself.

The whooshing of the power coming back on is the biggest relief he’s ever felt. The lights flicker on, blinding, and by time Gavin is able to blink the spots out of his eyes Freddy is gone. Gavin knows he’ll see the animatronic back on stage if he checks, same as all the others. He drops his hands to his sides. The hammer swings loosely in his grasp.

Time to go home.

He moves slowly, bone tired. He turns the flashlights off and untapes them. He tosses the used tape into the trash and the flashlights into his bag. The hammer gleams on the desk where he set it for safekeeping. Gavin’s not quite ready to pack it away just yet.

“I should just leave this shit here for tomorrow.” He mutters. _If I wasn’t afraid the next person to come in here would just throw it all out._

He picks up his hammer, places it in his bag, and swings it over his shoulder. Then he forces his legs to move, step by step, through the restaurant. Every step hurts, and he ends up mostly dragging his right leg behind himself. He passes by Pirate Cove and eyes it, half expecting Foxy to jump out. Nothing happens.

When he reaches the main room, he looks anywhere but the stage. He doesn’t want to see Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie. They’re most certainly looking at him, and the last thing he wants is to look into the eyes of the creatures that almost killed him and see innocence. If the phone guy is to be believed, it’s not like they’re attacking with malicious intent. If he’s to be believed.

He steps outside. He has no option but to walk home again. He looks right terrible, but there’s really nothing he can do about it until he gets home. Gavin takes a step forward and almost collapses. _Nevermind. Looks like I won’t be walking home._

Somehow he manages to drag himself down the street to the closest fast food restaurant. When he walks in he’s the only customer, and he counts his blessings. He staggers up to the front counter. The cashier turns to greet him and freezes. She blinks at him for a moment before fixing a tentative smile on her face.

“Hello.” She says. “Um... is everything alright, sir?”

Gavin can’t muster up a smile to match. “Yeah, just got a little roughed up earlier, um, but it’s fine, really. I can’t seem to find my phone, though. Do you think I could borrow one to call a friend?”

She opens her mouth to say something, and then looks behind her. “Yeah, I can do that. Are you sure you don’t want to call the police, too?”

“It’s not a police matter, promise.” Gavin rubs his nose. “Mostly me just being an idiot and misjudging how easy it is to injure myself.”

She nods. She pulls out her cellphone. “I’d offer to let you use the phone in the back, but I’m not sure how my manager would feel about that. You can use my cell.”

“Thank you.” Gavin takes the phone and goes to a nearby table. He stares at the number pad for a moment, trying to pull Michael’s number from the fog in his brain. He types the number and holds the phone to his ear. It rings once, twice, three times.

“Hello?” Michael’s voice is tinny.

“Hey Boi.” Gavin mumbles. “Think you could pick me up from work?”

Michael takes a moment to answer. “You do realize that I’m at work, right? I just started my shift.”

“Nobody’s ordered breakfast pizza, then?”

“I didn’t say that. It’ll be like twenty minutes before I can get out of here, let alone deliver the pizza and then get to you- where even are you? Whose phone are you using?”

Gavin looks around. He hadn’t actually bothered to see what restaurant he’d walked into. “I’m at the KFC by my work. Right down the street. I asked to borrow the cashier’s phone so I could call you. Um, when you get here... please don’t make a scene.”

“Make a scene? What do you mean?” Michael asks. His voice gets louder.

Gavin swallows. “You’ll see. Um, see you later, Boi. Thank you.”

He hangs up before Michael can say anything else. He pulls himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the table and chair, and walks the phone back to the cashier.

“Thank you.” He says, earnest. “My friend should be here by an hour or so.”

She nods. “Do you... want a spare shirt or anything? We might have an old on in the back... and you can use the bathroom to wash up if you want.”

“If you have something I’d be mighty grateful.”

“I’ll be right back.”

From the kitchen area, the two cooks give him odd looks. One of them leans over and says something to the other. Gavin tries not to feel offended. The cashier returns quickly and holds a shirt up.

“Here. Sorry I don’t have any spare pants, but at least the shirt is big. It might cover, um, things, you know what I mean.” She hands it over.

Gavin takes it and walks to the bathroom. He spends a good thirty minutes washing his face, scrubbing at his uniform shirt and pants to get the worst of the vomit off. He has to put damp pants back on, but damp is better than damp and crusty with vomit. He doesn’t even try to look at his foot. That’s better left for home, in the shower, alone.

He walks out of the bathroom to find Michael standing by the cash registers, talking to the cashier. Michael spots him the moment he spots Michael, and he has the wonderful privilege of watching Michael’s face go from moderately pissed off to shocked to very pissed off.

Michael stalks over. His mouth is pressed into a thin line. “Ready to go home?”

“So ready.” Gavin says.


	3. Third Mistake Was Asking Questions

Michael says nothing on the car ride. When he drops Gavin off at his apartment he gives him a look-- one that says ‘we’ll talk about this later’. He watches Gavin struggle to his door and speeds off. Gavin doesn’t blame him for being so stony. He is on the clock, after all. Still, he can’t help but wish Michael had insisted on knowing what happened. He’d probably lie to Michael’s face, but at least he’d know there’s someone willing to fuck shit up for him.

...Boy, he really needs to get some sleep. But first, shower and food. Gavin forces himself to go through the motions, finding relief in the warmth of the shower and slight nausea while shoving food in his mouth. His foot hurts all the while. He’d untaped it before he’d showered and it’d luckily stopped bleeding long before that. Afterwards he’d found a nice stack of bandaids and used them, excessively. His nail still hadn’t come off, but the dark blood underneath hadn’t made him feel particularly optimistic about its survival.

Finally, finally he collapses into bed. He doesn’t have his phone to set his alarm, but he’s sure he won’t be able to sleep long enough to miss work. He closes his eyes, and the strange, glitched words that had appeared on his computer screen flash across his eyelids. It’s Me, it had said. Who? Bonnie, Freddy? Someone else? Had they actually been there, on the screen, or had he hallucinated them? He wouldn’t be surprised to find he’d hallucinated them.

Gavin falls into an uneasy sleep.

***

The sound of knocking wakes him. Not rapid, loud, pounding like Michael had done the day before, but a nicer, calmer knock. Gavin pulls himself out of bed, seeing 1:11 on the clock on his wall, and limps to the front door. If anything, his foot hurts more now than it did when he first dropped the hammer on it.

He opens the door. Michael and Lindsay stand out on the stoop. Michael still looks pissed, but Lindsay just looks self conscious. Gavin steps aside so they can come in.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Michael says.

Gavin blinks. He closes the door behind them. “For why?”

“Because I’m fucking pissed, that’s why!” Michael drops a backpack on the counter. “You’re hurt, and you clearly don’t want to talk about it because you haven’t.”

Lindsay looks apologetic. “He’s worried. You know how he gets.”

“Let me see your foot.” Michael orders. “Go sit on your shitty couch and let me see it.”

Gavin does as told. He takes his sock off, thankfully not bloody, so he knows it hasn’t started bleeding again. He holds his foot up for Michael to see. Michael grabs his ankle.

“What happened?” Lindsay asks. She sits beside him.

Gavin flushes. “I dropped the hammer on my toe, that’s all. It, uh, hurt a lot.”

Michael peels the layer of band-aids off and drops them on the floor. He scrunches his face up. “You’re sure that’s what happened?”

“What else would have happened?”

“I don’t know, Gavin! You have a bloody lip, you definitely threw up at least once, I can tell you were crying. What did you do? What the hell happened?” Michael reaches into his backpack and pulls out a bottle of isopropyl and some cotton balls.

“I...” Gavin rubs his eyes.  _ Should I tell him? There’s nothing he can do. But if I don’t tell him, will he try to figure it out himself? _ “I just... dropped the hammer on my foot, and it hurt so I cried, and then the blood made me vomit, okay Boi? Just a really bad chain reaction of accidents. Nothing else.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that.”

“Well it’s true!” Gavin says. He winces as Michael does his best to clean the injury. “I swear, Boi. I was fucking around with the trash, and there was a mouse that scared me, and I dropped the hammer.”

Lindsay and Michael make eye contact, having some sort of silent conversation he isn’t privy to. Gavin sighs. Michael turns back to his foot and starts wrapping it with gauze.  _ Why didn’t I tell him? _

“So... Michael. Do you think you could bring me shopping?” Gavin asks. He starts brainstorming things he might be able to use at work.

“You sure you’re up for that? Your toe is fucked, dude. I’m not sure if it’s broken, but you aren’t going to be easily walking on it for a while.”

Gavin rolls his eyes. “Not like I can skip work because of my toe. I’ll deal with walking around the store. I just gotta get some stuff.”

“Ooh, like what?” Lindsay asks.

“Need some batteries, a few flashlights, I ought to at least start looking at new phones because I still can’t bloody find mine...” _ I want a lighter and some oil. _ “If I can find a fan that runs on batteries and doesn’t have to be plugged in I’ll gladly buy one. Also maybe a helmet.”

“What do you want a helmet for?” Michael asks.

Gavin shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. “I wanna look into bikes. Bicycles. But I don’t have the money for a bike yet so I’ll just get the helmet right now.”  _ Maybe I can use rope for something. _

“If you say so, Gav.” Michael says. He walks back to the kitchen.

Lindsay turns to him. “Alright, two things. One: you and I both know he’ll do anything for you, so stop keeping secrets. He’s not dumb. Two: did you eat the cupcake?”

“Uh... yeah, I ate the cupcake.” Gavin lies, avoiding the first part of her sentence. “It was good, until I vomited it up later. It didn’t taste nearly as good coming up as it did going down.”

Lindsay snorts. “Yeah, I’d expect that. Speaking of vomiting, though... Do you want me to bring your uniform to the laundromat while you and Michael go shopping? We drove separately so it’s not like anyone will be stuck.”

Gavin nods gratefully. “Thanks, Lindsay. I probably shouldn’t show up for work in a wet, vomit-soaked uniform, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

***

On their way back from the store, Gavin begs Michael to stop at his work. Freddy Fazbear’s is still open for the day, and Gavin has no trouble dragging himself in to find the manager, Benjamin, for a well-deserved talk. He doesn’t like that Michael insists on coming in with him, but Michael can’t be dissuaded when he makes up his mind.

Happy children run around screaming, climbing over and under tables and chairs in the dining area. Bored adults watch from the tables, talking amongst themselves. Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie play away on stage. They aren’t half as scary during the day, but he swears Bonnie’s eyes follow him as he walks by.

“Fucking creepy. I can’t believe kids like this place.” Michael says lowly. “I get why you wanted a hammer.”

_ You don’t know the half of it, _ Gavin thinks. “I think the kids just like running around with their friends and eating pizza.”

Benjamin spots them as they walk in. He stands by the door to the kitchen with another day worker, talking, but waves Gavin and Michael over enthusiastically. Gavin grumbles and walks over, dodging kids and tables alike. He almost feels like the animatronics as he does. It must be hard for them to walk between tables, with how big they are.

“Gavin! You’re here early! Hope nothing’s come up?” Benjamin claps him on the back.

Gavin smiles at him, feeling his lip split open again in the process. “I was just wondering, uh, well, I don’t really remember how long I’m required to work here? I mean, there’s not a problem with working here,” The lie tastes bitter on his tongue. “but if something were to come up I just want to know I’m not... breaking my contract.”

Beside him, Michael coughs and turns away. It’s his way of keeping his eye rolling from being seen, but Gavin’s seen it enough to recognise it for what it is. Benjamin blinks, and his smile becomes slightly less real.

“How about we head into the employee room? We can talk this over. Your friend will have to stay out here, though, since he’s not an employee.” Benjamin gestures towards the employee-only room.

Gavin looks at Michael. Michael raises an eyebrow. “I’ll be fine. Go talk business. Meet me out in the car when you’re done.”

Gavin nods and follows Benjamin to the employee-only room. It’s small, with three desk-like tables along one wall. Each has a back, two walls, and a top around the usable surface, making an appearance almost like a small tv stand where the tv goes in the hole in the center, rather than on top of the entire thing. Benjamin catches him looking.

“Yeah, we used to have a table, but employees kept distracting each other, especially when paperwork was involved. So, we got rid of the table and got these nifty little isolation desks. Sure, they’re right next to each other, but we don’t have that much room in here! Even with our supply closet!” Benjamin walks over to the small fridge on the wall to the right of the door. “Want something to drink?”

“No, I’m good. I actually have a lot to do today, so could we please be quick?” Gavin smiles uneasily. “Besides, I interrupted you, anyway.”

“Oh, sure, sure.”

Benjamin walks over to a filing cabinet, unlocks one of the drawers, and fishes out a file. “Says here you signed on to work here for two months, barring emergencies that might make you unable to come in. Beyond that, we need at least a three-week notice of resignation, and of course, no giving away company secrets.” Benjamin looks up at the last bit. “You haven’t shared anything with your friend out there, have you?”

“Nope.” Gavin swallows.

“Great! Let’s see... sharing company information can lead to a lawsuit, depending on the information shared, refusal to come in to work will not result in automatic termination unless absolutely necessary, and a fee will most definitely be issued. But you already knew this, I’m sure. We went over it before you signed it all.” Benjamin drops the file back in the filing cabinet. “Anything else?”

Gavin shuffles. “Um... yeah, why was Foxy discontinued?”

Benjamin’s smile becomes absolutely fake. It melts off his face. “There was an unfortunate accident involving unsupervised kids messing with Foxy while his free-roaming was active during the day. It wasn’t due to any malfunction of Foxy himself, but... you know, when kids get hurt on the premises, we’re seen as responsible. As with most entertainment businesses.”

_ Hm _ , Gavin turns the information over in his mind.  _ The Bite of ‘87. _ “Another question: how exactly does this place manage to hide the deaths of the night security?”

The smile returns to Benjamin’s face, fake and fixed and with a tinge of confusion. His eyes scream ‘I’m going to kill you if you say another word’, and while Gavin would ordinarily be scared shitless from a look like that-- well. Killer animatronics are a hell of a lot more scary.

“I don’t know what you mean, Gavin.” Benjamin’s voice is soft, concerned. “We’ve never had a death on the premises, and certainly not from the night workers. Are you feeling alright?”

Gavin bites his lip. He’s not sure why he expected anything different. Of course they wouldn’t want people talking about it all. “Feeling fine. On another hand, I lost my phone the first night I worked. Dunno where it went. Has anyone found it?”

“I haven’t heard anything about a phone. I’ll be sure to look for it, though. If I find it I’ll set it on your desk for tonight, okay?” Benjamin walks past Gavin and opens the door. “Now, have a good rest of your day, Gavin. And don’t forget what we talked about.”

Gavin walks past him and heads straight for the entrance doors. He doesn’t look back.  _ Benjamin knows exactly what’s going on. No clue if any of the regular day workers know. And whether Benjamin can actually do anything about it all is unclear; he might be just as unwilling a participant as me. Or me might just be an absolute piss pot arsehole. Who's even in charge of Benjamin? The owner? I’ll have to... look into that, then. _

Gavin slumps heavily into the passenger seat. Michael looks at him. “So how long do you have to work there before you’re allowed to quit?”

“Two months.” Gavin mumbles. “Two bloody months.”

Michael turns the car on. “You still want to insist there’s nothing wrong?”

“Yep.” Gavin thinks about Benjamin’s words. The unspoken threat. “I just don’t like working here is all. Nothing’s really wrong, though. Just not for me.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Michael says as he pulls out of the lot.

Neither speak the rest of the way to Gavin’s place.

***

Showing up for work on night three is somehow more terrifying than the first two nights. Well, the first night he hadn’t known what was coming, but he had the second night. To return again-- albeit only because he’s caught between a rock and a hard place-- is madness. Absolute madness.

Stopping in the dining area, Gavin drops his bag on a table and begins setting up the first of many ‘traps’. He’d found a motion trigger light setup at the store. Michael had admitted that it wouldn’t be very hard to set up; the hardest part, according to him, would be to hook it up to the existing wiring at his apartment. Gavin hadn’t told him it was actually for work, but he’d been grateful nonetheless for Michael’s help. Good thing Michael’s going to university for electrical engineering. Well, will be returning to it in the fall, at least, for his second year. 

The point of the light is to turn on whenever one of the animatronics move, lighting up the area and hopefully keeping Freddy from moving. Phone guy had said that Freddy becomes more active in the dark-- so keeping the place lit is key, then.

Gavin finishes hooking the light up. He’d bought some wiring and a few large batteries to go along, and Michael had once again helpfully given the information he’d needed without realizing why. Hopefully, with the power only actually being used when an animatronic moves, the light will have enough power for the entire night, if not two or three. His little flashlights had lasted most of the night, so why not a big light?

He takes a step back, and the light turns on, nearly blinding him.  _ Perfect. _ For the money he’d spent, it had all better work. Gavin packs up his things and moves onto the next room, Pirate Cove. He’d had an idea-- Foxy parts the curtains to come out... so what if the curtains can’t be parted? All Gavin has to do is sew on some easily-hidden buttons, button it every night, and unbutton it every morning, so the day workers don’t get suspicious.

Luckily, he knows how to sew pretty well. Also luckily, he’s doing good on time. He has little over an hour before showtime, and he’s going to use every bit of it he can. Cutting big enough holes in the fabric for the buttons to go in, and then sewing them so they don’t tear easily, takes about twenty minutes. It’s a shoddy job, but better than nothing. He finds a step stool in the supply closet so he can make the buttons go well over eight feet, too. Sewing the buttons on takes about ten minutes.

For the other edges, at the walls, he cuts a hole in each, sews it, and loops a small bit of rope through. He screws extra-long eye hooks into the walls with a bit of difficulty, and loops the other ends of the ropes through the hooks. Gavin ties the respective ropes together, and inspects his work. Hopefully Foxy is too tall to go under, but too small to go over. The entire time, he absolutely refuses to look behind the curtains. Foxy may not be in free- roam mode yet, but it doesn’t mean the animatronic can’t be absolutely terrifying. Or dangerous.

Satisfied, Gavin goes to the security office. He unplugs the fan and the clock, having brought his own analog clock from home and a battery-run fan from the store. He re-tapes his flashlights to the chair, tapes two more in each hallway, pointing toward the hallway entrances, and turns those ones on. They won’t last all night... but they’ll last for a while. For good measure, he takes the stepstool back to the supply closet and closes the door as tight as he can.

Maybe all of his work will have been for nothing. Maybe it’ll piss off the animatronics and they’ll destroy it all, sending more money than Gavin could really afford to spend down the drain. Worth a shot. He sets the hammer on the desk in front of himself.

He eyes the cupcake, still sitting on top of the speaker. It looks only a little worse for wear. With a small smile, he pulls out a pack of candles from his bag and presses on right on the top of the cupcake, right in the middle of the frosting. He adds two large googly eyes for a face. Gavin leans back in his chair, satisfied with his work.

The clock ticks midnight, and the phone rings.

_ “ _ _ Hello, hello?  _ _ Hey you're doing great! Most people don’t last this long. I mean, you know, they usually move on to other things by now. I'm not implying that they died. Th-th-that’s not what I mean.” _

“Of course not.” Gavin says. “They just didn’t sign a contract, apparently. Got the fuck out.” He wonders how many people have been stuffed inside the exoskeletons backstage.

_ “Uh, anyway I better not take up too much of your time. Things start getting real tonight.” _

Like they haven’t before?

_ “Uh... Hey, listen, I had an idea: if you happen to get caught and want to avoid getting stuffed into a Freddy suit, uhh, try playing dead! You know, go limp. Then there's a chance that, uh, maybe they’ll think that you're an empty costume instead. Then again if they think you're an empty costume, they might try to... stuff a metal skeleton into you. I wonder how that would work. Yeah, never mind, scratch that. It's best just not to get caught. Um... Ok, I'll leave you to it. See you on the flip side!” _

The phone clicks. Gavin checks the doors. Nothing. He turns the computer on and flicks through the cameras. Foxy hasn’t made an appearance. All three animatronics still stand on the darkened stage. He checks Foxy again. The curtains are still buttoned tight. Gavin turns the computer off. He checks the doors, seeing nothing.

The rest of the hour goes on in a similar fashion. Despite checking everything as frequently as he dares, none of the animatronics make a move. He scratches his nose, taps his feet-- and instantly regrets it as his entire right foot erupts into pain-- and spins around in his chair.

How is the third night easier than the first night, if the animatronics get more active throughout the week? Have his preventative measures actually worked? Gavin thinks about his conversation with Benjamin. The manager had been obviously unwilling to talk about this, but... there’s no way he’d turn the animatronics off. The phone guy had said it himself. They’re kept on at night to keep the servos from locking up.

A low groan comes from his left, and Gavin moves before he really thinks about what he’s doing. Adrenaline shoots through his system as the door comes down, but he gets a nice look at Bonnie before it shuts all the way. He checks the right door. Nothing.

He turns the camera back on. The Pirate Cove curtain hasn’t been touched. Gavin checks the stage. Bonnie and Chica are missing. Freddy stares directly into the Camera, almost looking like he’s grinning.

A bead of sweat drips down Gavin’s nose. So Freddy is awake tonight. They all are. He checks the right door again. Nothing. He opens the left door. Bonnie is gone. The camera feed fuzzes out, and Freddy laughs. It sounds far away and close at the same time.

“How’s Freddy work, cupcake?” Gavin asks. The cupcake doesn’t answer, but he didn’t expect it to, anyway.

He checks his doors, and closes the right one to keep Chica from coming in. From down the hall, he hears Foxy’s scream. He tenses, ready to throw himself at the door to close it, but footsteps don’t follow. He turns the computer to Pirate Cove. The curtain is still buttoned, but it’s clear Foxy has messed with it.

Gavin checks his doors, opens the right, and peaks into the left hallway, just to be sure Foxy isn’t trying to sneak up on him or something similar. He settles back into his chair, and looks for Freddy.

He goes through all of the cameras-- even looking outside the doors-- to no avail. Gavin whimpers and goes through them again, looking for anything even slightly out of place. In the corner of the dining area, as far as he can get from the motion light while still being in the camera, stands Freddy. He stares directly at the camera. All Gavin can see are his eyes: two small, white dots surrounded by black.

Gavin shudders. He checks the doors, and then on Foxy again. This time Foxy’s curtain has been torn from the left side. The eye hook glints in the camera. Foxy himself stands in the center of the feed, positively glaring at the camera-- and by extension, Gavin-- with utmost hatred.

“Really feels like you’re more sentient than you let on,” Gavin mutters. He turns the computer off.

It comes back on without warning, flickering between an empty Pirate Cove and a fuzzy, gray screen. Dread washes over him like a bucket of cold water. He slams the button to the left door and it shuts tight. Foxy runs into it and screams. The computer still flickers, turning from Pirate Cove to the camera 2A, the west hall. Somewhere in the building, Freddy laughs.

To his right, Chica groans. Gavin closes the door without looking. Foxy continues pounding on the left door, still screaming. The computer screen fuzzes out, showing only gray. 

It’s

all

so

_ loud-- _

He claps his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the sounds of Foxy screaming and the static on the computer. It only gets louder, and he kicks the desk with enough force to send him backwards, spilling out of the chair and onto his stomach. Tears well up in his eyes. Freddy laughs again, closer, and still Foxy throws himself at the left door. Gavin slams his fist into the overturned chair in front of him, and it skitters away towards the right door.

He lets out a sob and closes his eyes. “Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shutupshutupshutupshut _ upshutup _ .”

Right in front of him, a little girl laughs. He freezes and opens his eyes. Something large, gold, and furry sits in front of his desk, slumped over. He looks up, up, higher until he sees it’s head. A golden Freddy, with empty eyes and a gaping smile. The static gets louder again, and then--   
  
  
  
  


**I̷̶̡̫̮̞̯͓͇͎͔̻̺̤̙̻̫̣̯͐̌̄ͯ́̃͟ͅŢ̫̫̥̞̖̦̼̮̙̩̤̰̲̙̜̗̖̱̳̐͂͗̈́̏̈́͗̆̔ͨ̀ͧ̏̚͘'̾͑ͦ̿ͪ̀͊̽̏́̀͏̛̛̛̠̰̻̙̙̜͚͍͓͔̰̝̞̥̝̲̱͟ͅͅS̡̗̻̜̖̞͍̜͈͍ͥͧ̽̈́͐ͫ̽̐̒̒͑̾̐ͥ ̷̡ͧͬ͐̅͟҉̧͇̮͚̙̙ͅM̤͖̲̯̌ͯ͋ͧ̋̌͋̀͒͑ͤ̄̆̋̍ͬE̺̦̯͚͉̘͉ͧ̔̾͋͜͞͞͠ͅ**

  
  


Something speaks inside his head, louder than any thoughts he’s ever had. Gavin screams his throat raw, scrambling back until his back touches the wall. The golden Freddy doesn’t move.   
  
  
  


**I̷̶̡̫̮̞̯͓͇͎͔̻̺̤̙̻̫̣̯͐̌̄ͯ́̃͟ͅŢ̫̫̥̞̖̦̼̮̙̩̤̰̲̙̜̗̖̱̳̐͂͗̈́̏̈́͗̆̔ͨ̀ͧ̏̚͘'̾͑ͦ̿ͪ̀͊̽̏́̀͏̛̛̛̠̰̻̙̙̜͚͍͓͔̰̝̞̥̝̲̱͟ͅͅS̡̗̻̜̖̞͍̜͈͍ͥͧ̽̈́͐ͫ̽̐̒̒͑̾̐ͥ ̷̡ͧͬ͐̅͟҉̧͇̮͚̙̙ͅM̤͖̲̯̌ͯ͋ͧ̋̌͋̀͒͑ͤ̄̆̋̍ͬE̺̦̯͚͉̘͉ͧ̔̾͋͜͞͞͠ͅ**

  
  


He slams his eyes shut and curls into a ball as images flash through his head like the most terrifying slideshow. Freddy’s face-- two Freddy faces-- Bonnie’s face, eyeless-- the golden Freddy, slumped-- Freddy, black-eyed--   
  
  


**I̷̶̡̫̮̞̯͓͇͎͔̻̺̤̙̻̫̣̯͐̌̄ͯ́̃͟ͅŢ̫̫̥̞̖̦̼̮̙̩̤̰̲̙̜̗̖̱̳̐͂͗̈́̏̈́͗̆̔ͨ̀ͧ̏̚͘'̾͑ͦ̿ͪ̀͊̽̏́̀͏̛̛̛̠̰̻̙̙̜͚͍͓͔̰̝̞̥̝̲̱͟ͅͅS̡̗̻̜̖̞͍̜͈͍ͥͧ̽̈́͐ͫ̽̐̒̒͑̾̐ͥ ̷̡ͧͬ͐̅͟҉̧͇̮͚̙̙ͅM̤͖̲̯̌ͯ͋ͧ̋̌͋̀͒͑ͤ̄̆̋̍ͬE̺̦̯͚͉̘͉ͧ̔̾͋͜͞͞͠ͅ**

  
  


Pain lances through his head as the voice, still too loud, speaks again. He screams.

  
  
  
  


**I̷̶̡̫̮̞̯͓͇͎͔̻̺̤̙̻̫̣̯͐̌̄ͯ́̃͟ͅŢ̫̫̥̞̖̦̼̮̙̩̤̰̲̙̜̗̖̱̳̐͂͗̈́̏̈́͗̆̔ͨ̀ͧ̏̚͘'̾͑ͦ̿ͪ̀͊̽̏́̀͏̛̛̛̠̰̻̙̙̜͚͍͓͔̰̝̞̥̝̲̱͟ͅͅS̡̗̻̜̖̞͍̜͈͍ͥͧ̽̈́͐ͫ̽̐̒̒͑̾̐ͥ ̷̡ͧͬ͐̅͟҉̧͇̮͚̙̙ͅM̤͖̲̯̌ͯ͋ͧ̋̌͋̀͒͑ͤ̄̆̋̍ͬE̺̦̯͚͉̘͉ͧ̔̾͋͜͞͞͠ͅ**

  
  


There’s still so much static, Foxy still beats away at the door, and Freddy laughs again, so close, just outside the door--

Gavin can’t do anything but laugh with him, and so he does. Even though his throat is raw and his eyes are filled with tears, he laughs. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs, until he can’t hear anything but his own laughter and he can’t see anything but the empty office.

He laughs some more, breathless, and wipes tears from his eyes


	4. Fourth Mistake Was Pissing Them Off

Gavin can’t remember getting home. Or finishing his shift. Just suddenly he’s home on the couch, showered, fed, and sleepy; but he can’t sleep. How can he? He doesn’t remember how he got to this moment, this place. Laughter, static, screaming, and Golden Freddy. Words, so close they may be in his head. It’s Me. It’s Me. It’s Me.

A phone rings. He looks over. Beside him, nearly in his hand, is his phone. The same one he’d lost. The same one he hadn’t found. Except he had, because it’s here, ringing, Michael is calling him-- is he sure he’d ever lost it?

He picks up the phone and answers it. “Hey Boi.”

“You sound chipper. Did you get some sleep?” Michael sounds pissed off, but then again he always does.

“Probably,” Gavin says, because he doesn’t know how else to answer. “What’s up?”

“Fuckers put me on the night shift. Nobody orders pizza at midnight but drunks and druggies. It’s fucking ridiculous.” Michael grumbles. “I’m coming over.”

Gavin smiles. “Night shift’s not that bad, Michael-Boi.”

“Drunks and druggies, Gavin!” Michael reminds him. “I’ll see you in twenty.”

Michael hangs up, and Gavin is alone. He stays sitting on the couch for a bit, having little else to do. He finally pulls himself up, noting the time on his phone. Noon. He walks to the bathroom. His reflection’s the same as it’s always been. His hair is permanently mussed, his nose just large enough to be the butt of jokes. He pokes at his lip. It’s still split, but healing.

...now, where did he get a purple sweatshirt from?

Gavin tugs at it experimentally. It’s his size, for sure. It doesn’t seem new, but it definitely isn’t old, either. Has he always had this? “Huh.”

There’s a knock on the door. He rubs his face and goes to open it. With every step his foot hurts, hurts, hurts, but he doesn’t have the money to go to the doctors so he has no choice but to ignore it. He opens the door, and without a word Michael stalks in.

“So, the night shift.” Gavin says.

“Yeah. It’s fucking ridiculous. Why move me to night shift instead of hiring someone else to do it?”

“It’s probably easier to train you for the night shift than hire someone completely new.” Gavin reasons. “I imagine your job is harder at night. In some ways, at least. But it’s still the same job, yeah? Not like my job. Night shift at Freddy’s is way different than the day shift, so it didn’t matter much if they hired someone new.”

“Yeah, but why me? It’s going to drive me up the fucking wall, Gavin. There’s nothing to do at night!” Michael stalks into the living room.

Gavin follows suit. “There’s probably more to do than you realize. People mostly eat pizza at night. Besides, Lindsay works nights, doesn’t she? Now we’re all nocturnal. Means we can hang out more!” Gavin pauses, noticing his bag. It’s shut tight, shoved into the corner. He licks his lips and turns away. He’ll look at it later.

“Yeah, whatever.” Michael says. He collapses on Gavin’s couch. “Except your night shift is midnight to 6 AM. Mine is 8 PM to 1 AM.”

Gavin pouts and says nothing.

Michael looks at him. “ How’s your foot doing?”

Gavin wiggles his foot, staring at his sock. “Still hurts. I can ignore it pretty good, though.”

“Let me see it.”

Gavin pulls his sock off. He lets Michael unbandage his toe and gently inspect it. Gavin must’ve taken care of it during his memory lapse, because the bandages are fresh and the injury underneath is clean. His toenail is missing, too. He’d expected it, but it’s still freaky to look at. Michael hums and haws and pokes at it, then disappears into the bathroom to find the first aid kit he’d left.

“You cleaned it this morning.” Michael says. It isn’t a question.

Gavin nods. “Yeah. Took a shower. Kind of had to clean it.”

“Well, you did a good job at it.” Michael finishes wrapping his toe.

“If you say so.” Gavin slips his sock back on. “So, did you just come here to check my toe or did you have something else in mind?”

“I thought we’d hang out! Am I not allowed?”

Gavin giggles at Michael’s affronted tone. “Oh, sure, Boi. What did you want to do?”

“Video games. Definitely video games.”

***

Michael leaves at half-past four, citing a need for some sleep before he’s abruptly shoved into the night shift tonight. Gavin doesn’t blame him. Despite his own sleepiness, he knows any attempt at sleep before his shift tonight will fail. With that, he settles down on his couch with his laptop and a box of crackers. He has some research to do before work tonight.

The first thing he looks up is ‘Accident at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza’. A few genuine articles show up, with the rest being message boards and conspiracy theory sites. He’ll check out the conspiracies later. Gavin clicks on one of the news articles. It’s an upload of an old news article, dated 1987, but he can’t seem to find a month to go along with it. He skims the page, mumbling along with what he reads.

“...two children, unsupervised… the pirate fox animatronic, Foxy…severe head injury from one bite…” Gavin sighs. It’s only stuff he already knew. He backs out of the site and clicks the next link.

The second one also doesn’t have a dated month. The first few paragraphs give a rundown of the actual accident-- a free-roaming Foxy cornered by two ten year olds, out of view of both parents and workers. One had been bitten by Foxy and the other had given several differing stories: first, as the accident occurred and was being dealt with, he claimed that they had been doing nothing and Foxy had attacked his friend like a wild animal; second, he admitted they had been messing with Foxy, but still claimed Foxy had attacked them; and third, the final story, that they had been messing with Foxy and his friend had gotten too close to the animatronic’s mouth as it closed. The kid that had been bit had never recovered memory of the incident, in part due to the massive brain damage.

Gavin ponders it. It makes sense, in a moment of panic, that the kid would claim they were attacked, even by something that shouldn’t have the capacity to consciously do so. And it seems they were most definitely misbehaving, probably thinking they could get away with mistreating Foxy for the only reason that they wanted to. No kid would want to admit that. The second story adding that, but still claiming they were attacked, like Foxy got angry at them because of it. Why keep that as part of the story when everyone knows that an animatronic has no sense of anger, self, or revenge?

But then, why change the story a third time? Because nobody believed that Foxy had consciously hurt his friend? Because the truth had been wheedled out by disappointed, disbelieving parents?

Or because the Fazbear Entertainment company didn’t want the truth of their animatronics to get out? Are the animatronics actually sentient? Were they made to be? Did they grow to be? Or is he just looking too deeply into it?

Gavin forces himself to continue reading. The rest of the article talks about the recovery of the child who had been bitten, still not naming any names, and Fazbear Entertainment’s decision to discontinue Foxy and close down Pirate Cove. He finds nothing else of interest in the article, and backs out.

The last two news articles are newer, within the last five years. Two missing persons cases were reported by Fazbear Entertainment within recent years. Both were night security, neither had family or friends, and both disappeared within their first week of working. Five years apart, and only reported by Fazbear Entertainment because neither person had anyone else to report them missing. The only reason the article itself exists is because a particularly perceptive intern wanted to prove themself and thought it was interesting, though they weren’t able to find any other information regarding missing persons reports being connected to Fazbear Entertainment.

Gavin bets his arse there are plenty more missing persons cases of people that worked the night shift, but since they were reported by friends or family the case files have no reason to mention Fazbear Entertainment or the restaurant. Nobody would just believe they went missing on the job, obviously, because nobody knows the animatronics are dangerous at night. And the ones that do, well… like Gavin, they aren’t allowed to talk about it.

He remembers the way Foxy had glared at the camera after escaping the buttoned-up Pirate Cove, and the way he’d continued to attack the door well longer than he’d ever done previously. Foxy, at least, seems to be more sentient than he appears at first glance. Is it possible, though? Does it make more sense than the explanation he’d been given, that the animatronics don’t recognise people as people at night? That in their wanderings, they find the night security and know they aren’t allowed to be out of their exoskeleton?

Gavin growls and throws his couch pillow across the room.  _ And who the hell is that Golden Freddy? _ He wonders.  _ Did I hallucinate it? The voice, It’s Me, was it actually there or did I imagine it in my pain and terror? I can’t even remember how I got home this morning. _

He closes his laptop harder than he probably should. He only has a few hours before work. He should eat, really eat, check his bag to make sure everything he needs is in it, and then get there early to prepare. Pirate Cove needs to be buttoned up, the dining area light needs to be reset, and all of his office modifications need to be set up again. Unless he left it all at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza during his memory block.

Gavin drags himself to his feet. He doesn’t have much in his fridge, but there are apples and he has a jar of peanut butter and he definitely has bread, so in the least he can have a peanut butter sandwich with apples. He can drink some water, too, maybe make some coffee. He makes the sandwich and eats on the couch, dropping crumbs over his floor. He doesn’t care. He tosses his apple core in the garbage and looks in his bag.

Everything is there. Absolutely everything he brings to work, including the lightbulb.  _ What happened last night? What else did I do? Why can’t I remember? _ He almost wants to strip all of his clothes off and search himself, just to be sure there are no injuries or marks he can’t feel. His skin crawls. 

“This is fine. You’re fine. It’s Thursday, you only have tonight and tomorrow night and then you have two days off.” Gavin mumbles. He rubs his eyes.

Time to go to work.

***

_ “Hello, hello? Hey! Hey, wow, day 4. I knew you could do it.Uh, hey, listen, I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow.”  _ As Gavin listens to the phone guy talk, he hears banging, like the animatronics trying to get through the closed doors. He looks around, confused, noting that both doors are open and empty of animatronics. He turns the computer on.

_ “It's-It's been a bad night here for me. Um, I-I'm kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you, uh, when I did.” _

Gavin leans forward. “Is it coming from the phone?” He wonders aloud, feeling dread pool in his stomach. He looks out the doors again to be sure. The phone guy continues, and so does the banging. Gavin flicks through the feed between the stage and Pirate Cove.

_ “Uh, hey, do me a favor. Maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room? I'm gonna to try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Uh, I-I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there.”  _ Unlike before, the phone guy actually sounds afraid. Gavin leans forward, like it’ll help him hear better. Like he’ll be closer to the phone guy. Like the phone guy won’t die alone, somehow.

Freddy’s music box starts playing.

_ “You know…”  _ The phone guy trails off as one of the animatronics moans. _ “oh, no--” _

The banging continues, the moaning, the music box, altogether in a terrible symphony with the underlying sound of warped speaking-- only to cut out abruptly with a screech and static. All the sounds he’d heard when that Golden Freddy had attacked him, when all the others had been right outside the doors. So the phone guy is dead, then. Whether by the Golden Freddy or another animatronic.

Gavin looks out the doors. Chica watches him from the right window, and he closes the door. He checks on Foxy again. The animatronic peaks at him from the floor, head sticking out from under the curtain. Gavin had fixed the curtain to the wall again when he’d arrived earlier. The way Foxy glares at the camera, though, says he’s absolutely pissed about it.

Gavin checks the right window and when he doesn’t see Chica he opens the door. In the left hallway he hears footsteps, and turns just in time to watch Bonnie walk past the door to the corner of the hallway. Oh well.

Gavin eyes his hammer, and turns to look at Freddy. The light from the dining area is on, just barely shining onto the stage and illuminating Freddy. He doesn’t look happy about his situation, either. His eyes have gone black and glossy, leaving only white pinpricks to see of his eyes.

He looks back at Foxy. The animatronic has managed to pull himself further under the curtain and out, despite the heaviness of it. He still trains his eyes on the camera, though. Gavin bites his lip and turns the computer off. Bonnie moans from the left and Gavin slams the door closed. He checks right, finding it empty.

“Okay.” Gavin says. “Okay.”

He checks the left door five minutes later. Bonnie is gone, and he keeps the door open. He turns the computer on and looks at Pirate Cove. Foxy’s crawled out from under the curtain even more, hands scratching at the floor, eyes staring daggers at the camera. He’s almost out, and Gavin loathes to think about what he’ll do when he gets fully out. And if he’ll try to return to Pirate Cove after.

Freddy laughs, and Gavin switches the camera to the stage. Freddy’s disappeared. Gavin swallows, gripping his hammer, and switches to the dining area. In the very corner, Freddy stands as far away from the light as he can. His eyes shine as white pinpricks.

Gavin turns the computer off and checks the doors. Bonnie has returned, grinning at him. Chica watches from the window. Gavin closes both doors, gritting his teeth.  _ Great. _ Something runs down the left hallway and slams into the door. Gavin flinches at the sound and picks up his hammer.

Foxy screeches from the hallway, slamming into the door repeatedly. From the right door, Chica knocks much more calmly. Freddy laughs again. Gavin checks the computer. Not the stage, not the dining area. So where? Not at Pirate Cove, of which is completely empty, not at the kitchen-- the restrooms. Freddy stares at him from the darkest part of the area, two white pinprick eyes. Gavin bares his teeth and turns the computer off again.

Somehow, Foxy is still attacking. It’s been much longer than normal, but the attacks haven’t faltered a bit. Foxy must be really pissed, then. And determined. He checks the right door-- empty. He opens it and eyes the left. Foxy screeches.  _ Not opening that for a while, then. _

Foxy continues. He closes and opens the right door as Chica comes and goes, and checks the camera for Freddy, seeing Bonnie, sometimes, in the left hallway, then the dining area, the stage. Foxy doesn’t stop, and Gavin watches his power drain away with trepidation. 70%. 60%. 40%. Freddy moves from the restrooms to the kitchen, and Gavin hears his music box play.

35%. Gavin turns the computer off. He wipes sweat from his forehead. Foxy screams again and throws himself at the door with renewed vigor. Gavin holds his hammer close to his chest. Nobody at the right door. Nevermind, Chica appears in the window. He closes the door.

“Get away, you wankers.” Gavin mutters. He stands, limping to the left door, and bangs the happier against it once, twice, three times.

He can only imagine that it, too, has drained power, but it does seem to stop Foxy. The animatronic stops banging. Instead, he screams again. Gavin copies him, screaming his throat raw.

He coughs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought! I’m not scared of you! Go back to where you came from!”

For a moment, everything is silent. He can hear his own, ragged breaths and his heart beating in his ears like a drum. Gavin takes a few steps back and stands in the center of the room. He looks back at the right door and the illuminated window where Chica watches him. He looks at the left door and through the window as Foxy walks over to glare at him through it.

Foxy snaps his jaw shut and knocks on the window once, twice, three times with his hook. Gavin bares his teeth and raises his hammer above his head. He won’t throw it at the window-- that would be madness. Even though he doubts the animatronics could fit through the windows, he doesn’t particularly want to try.

Foxy opens his mouth again.  **“Go bACk to WHere You caMe froM.”**

Gavin’s spine prickles. Foxy’s voice box has definitely broken, leaving words to be a mix of his deep voice and a screeching of metal on metal. He didn’t even know Foxy could talk.  _ Another check for sentience, _ he thinks.  _ There’s no way Foxy was programmed to say that. _

“Think I’m coming back here because I want to?” Gavin shouts. His guts twist. “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to!”

**“Go baCK to WHere You caMe froM.”**

Gavin glances back at the right window. Chica still watches him through the window, and as Gavin watches, the flashlight he’d set up in the hallway turns off. It must’ve run out of battery. Freddy laughs, and Chica disappears from the window. Gavin shuffles his feet and looks back at Foxy in the left window.

“Let me leave and I will.” Gavin says.

The power must be about to run out soon, he didn’t have much left before he turned the computer off. With the doors closed… there’s no way he has more than 10% left right now. Freddy laughs again, and Gavin looks at the window just in time to watch him walk past, shrouded in darkness.

_ I cannot open that door. _

When the power goes out, should he face Freddy or Foxy? Usually when the power goes out Freddy shows up at the left door… will he stay at the right door this time? Will the other animatronics let Freddy do whatever he wants or will they all fight over who gets to kill Gavin? What did they do to the phone guy?

The building whooshes, and the power goes out. His only sources of light are his flashlights taped to his chair, and there’s no way they have a lot of battery left. Gavin keeps his hammer at the ready and slowly turns in a circle, left to right to left again, waiting. Foxy doesn’t throw himself at Gavin. Chica and Bonnie are silent. He hears footsteps in the right hall, walking away, and looks. Nothing. He turns back to the left hallway. Nothing.

Footsteps in the left hallway. “I hear you!” Gavin says.

He looks and sees white pinpricks, just outside the light from his flashlights. Freddy. His guts twist more. He survived Freddy three times, he can do it again.  _ The phone guy didn’t. _ Gavin pushes the thought from his head.  _ He survived long enough. _ The haunting melody of Freddy’s music box fills the office and hallways. Gavin promptly bends over and vomits all over the floor. He groans and wipes his mouth, happy that Freddy is still playing his music box. He doesn’t seem to attack while it’s playing.

His flashlights go out, and he’s plunged into darkness. Freddy’s face lights up, strobelike, as the music plays. He has a decision to make, he realizes. He can stay here and fight or he can run. There’s no way he can make it to the doors before they catch him, but maybe he can find someplace to hide until 6. Or maybe he’ll make it two steps into the right hallway and be tackled by Chica.

Gavin makes a very dumb decision, and runs at Freddy. The music box cuts out just as he steps out of the door, but he doesn’t stop. He plants his feet and swings-- and his hammer collides with Freddy’s chest with a loud bang. The animatronic staggers back and Gavin runs past. He can’t hear anything but the blood pounding in his ears and his feet pounding on the floor. 

That is, until he hears Foxy scream and run after him. Gavin sucks in a breath and takes a right. He doesn’t run into the wall of the hallway, so he must have run into the dining area. To prove him right, the motion-detection light turns on, dimly illuminating the room. Gavin dives under the nearest table, dropping the hammer beside him so he doesn’t drop it on himself.

Foxy reaches for him and screams again. Gavin crawls out the other side of the table and under the next as Foxy launches over it. This time he stays under the table, crawling the long way under it and letting the chairs be a natural barrier. He keeps the hammer in his hand. He’s not going to drop it for anything, even if it means sacrificing speed for possible defense. Foxy tears a chair away and tries to bite him. Gavin rolls the other way and runs again, throwing himself over the next table. Foxy jumps at him, and Gavin swings his hammer. It hits Foxy square on the jaw and the animatronic crumples to the floor, jaw flying across the room. Gavin turns forward and runs for the door.

Bonnie steps out of nowhere. Gavin screams, heart leaping from his chest, and slides to a stop. He falls on his ass with a thump. His hammer flies a few feet away. He whips around and takes off again, heading for the kitchen. He bumps into the table holding his light, hard.

“Fuck a duck!” Gavin hisses as he sprawls on the floor. The lightbulb falls from the table and shatters, sending the room into darkness.

Bonnie grabs him by the right leg and lifts him into the air. He screams again, scrabbling for purchase against the smooth tiled floor. “No- no- no, please, let me go!”

Bonnie ignores him and walks towards backstage, dragging Gavin along. He kicks with everything he can, trying to dislodge Bonnie’s grip. Tears stream down his face. He screams again, latching his arms around a table leg.  _ I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die please God no let me go I don’t want to die  _ “Please let me go I haven’t done anything please.” He whimpers.

Something sparks in the darkness, and suddenly the tablecloth is on fire. It spreads quickly, the only light Gavin has, practically leaping from the first tablecloth to the ones surrounding it. Bonnie tugs him hard enough to drag the table from its place. His knee pops, and it’s the worst thing he’s ever felt. All he can muster is a sob. Bonnie tugs again. Red-hot pain courses through his entire leg. Gavin goes limp, vision blacking out. He wheezes.

The fire spreads, lighting the room better than his little lightbulb did. The animatronics ignore it. In his pocket, his phone rings. He fumbles for it, jolting his leg even worse than Bonnie’s been doing in the process. He hisses through his teeth.

“Michael?” He gasps. “Michael!”

“-Gavin? What the fuck is going on? Are you okay?” Michael sounds immediately worried.

They reach the doorway. Gavin grasps at the door frame with his left hand. “I don’t want to die-” Bonnie tugs his leg again and he screams. “-Michael, Michael!” His voice catches in his throat. Bonnie tugs again, harder, but Gavin clutches onto the door frame for dear life.

“Gavin, what the fuck is going on? Where are you?”

“Work.” Gavin whimpers. Freddy appears in front of him. “But you can’t come here, you can’t, stay away!”

“Fuck that!” Michael snarls.

Gavin coughs smoke from his lungs. How did the fire grow so quickly? How much of this building is a fire hazard? Everything’s so bright, so hot, and still the animatronics continue dragging him to his doom. Freddy reaches down and grabs Gavin's arm, hard. He wrenches it away from the door frame and it splinters in his hand. He hears his arm snap-- he drops his phone and screams. He writhes in the animatronics’ grips, fading in and out of blessed blackness.

“Gavin? Gavin!” Freddy steps on his phone and Michael’s voice cuts out.

They drop him on the floor. Pain. Pain everywhere. He hiccoughs. “Please, please, I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die. I’m just a kid, please.” He pushes himself backwards with his good leg. He hits something hard. “I’m not ready to die. I want my mum. I want my mum!”

He can’t see anything. He can only hear footsteps and his heart in his ears and the sobs that shake his entire body. He curls into a ball. His arm hurts worse than his broken wrist ever did. His leg is limp on the floor. He’s going to die, broken and battered and shoved into a suit of wires, and nobody who cares will ever find him.

“I want my mum,” Gavin chokes into his leg. “I want my mum.”

It’s so hot. It feels like his skin is boiling. Fire is everywhere, burning, roaring, destroying everything. He can’t breathe, his lungs burn with every breath he tries to suck in. _ I can’t breathe I’m going to die I’m going to burn to death and nobody will even find my bones-- _


	5. Fifth Mistake Was Starting The Fire

Michael paces in the hospital waiting room, unable to sit still. All he can think about is Gavin, terrified, convinced he’s about to die. Then arriving at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza with Lindsay after driving like a maniac, the police on the phone, to see the entire place up in flames and firemen already on scene. Nobody could say how the fire started. It had taken almost ten minutes from the moment he and Lindsay arrived for the firemen to pull Gavin out of the fire.

They said he’d been backstage, curled into a ball, unconscious and burning. But alive. Michael and Lindsay had followed the ambulance to the hospital, but they hadn’t been able to see him before the doctors had taken him away for treatment.

Michael sits in a chair beside Lindsay, hard. His legs bounce restlessly, and a few minutes later he gets up again. He can’t sit still when he doesn’t know what’s going on with Gavin. Is he alright? Is he dying?

Lindsay touches him gently on the shoulder. “Maybe we should go outside for a bit.”

Michael shakes his head. “And what if someone comes out to talk to us while we’re out there? No way, Linds.”

“Then you go on a walk and I’ll stay here. You can’t keep stalking around like this, it’s putting everyone else off.” Lindsay keeps her voice quiet. Michael shakes his head.

“Absolutely not.” He pauses as a nurse walks in.

She looks around. “Michael Jones?”

“That’s me.” Michael says immediately. He and Lindsay walk over.

“Is Gavin okay?” Lindsay asks.

The nurse purses her lips. “Let’s go to his room. I’ll explain there.”

The walk is short and silent. They pass a dozen doctors and nurses, all going about their business, and several people visiting their loved ones. Finally they stop in front of a door. The nurse looks at them.

“He’s unconscious still, and probably will be for a while yet.” She opens the door, and they follow her in. “He sustained some very severe burns, mostly on his legs and arms. His torso was… relatively untouched by fire, as was his face. As of right now, smoke inhalation is our biggest concern, but he’s breathing on his own and doesn’t need a ventilator.”

Michael lays eyes on Gavin, and freezes. He’s mostly covered by bandages, including parts of his face. His left arm is in a cast. His right leg has a cast around the knee. Michael’s stomach twists.

“What happened to his arm and leg?” He asks.

“His arm was broken cleanly just below the elbow and several fractures were found in his shoulder. As for his leg, his knee was pulled completely from it’s socket, and he received several torn tendons.”

Lindsay sucks in a breath.

The nurse continues. “I’ll leave you be.”

Michael walks and sits heavily in one of the chairs. There’s a whole bunch of medical machines he doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t want to mess with them just in case he ends up destroying them or something. Lindsay sits in the chair beside him.

“He’s going to be okay.” She says gently.

“You think so?”

“They didn’t say otherwise.” Lindsay puts her hand on his arm. “And guess what? We’re going to be there for him every step of the way to make sure.”

“Yeah.” Michael agrees. “Why didn’t we… something was up with him, Linds. We knew it. Why didn’t we try harder?”

“...What are you getting at?”

“Look. I get fires happen. Honestly, having been in that place, I’m not surprised there was a fire. But what if Gavin started it?”

Lindsay looks at him, wide eyed. She frowns. “You think he started the fire?”

“Probably not to hurt himself. But to hurt something else? The same thing that had him bringing that hammer to work? Looking at bike helmets? Buying flashlights and shit, then insisting that nothing was wrong? Something was wrong. And since he didn’t want to tell anyone, it probably wasn’t  _ real _ .”

“Maybe.” Lindsay says. She doesn’t look convinced, but doesn’t look unconvinced either. “But what’s important right now if Gavin’s physical health, okay? We start with that.”

Gavin makes a noise like a whimper. Michael tenses, ready to do… something, if needed. Gavin doesn’t make another sound, though, and he forces himself to calm down. Michael rubs his face. God, none of this is okay. He hasn’t slept in almost 12 hours. The thought of sleeping now just makes his stomach twist into knots. He has to work tonight, the goddamn night shift again. Gavin is lucky to be alive. 

“He’s not going to be able to live on his own.” Michael mutters.

“So he can stay with one of us. Or one of us can stay with him. Besides, the hospital won’t let him go home until he’s well enough to not need help every second of every day. It will be a while.” Lindsay shakes her head. “We can talk to him when he wakes up.”

There’s a knock on the door. They look up, confused, and a moment later a police officer walks in. Michael recognises him as one of the officers that had shown up for the fire. Officer Hanson.

“Hello again, you two. I don’t quite remember your names, unfortunately.” He says immediately. He glances at Gavin, unconscious in bed.

Lindsay stands. “I’m Lindsay, this is my boyfriend Michael.”

“And you’re friends with him, if I remember correctly?” Officer Hanson asks.

“The only ones he has.” Michael mutters. He doesn’t stand up.

Officer Hanson nods. “Well, I came to ask questions. Seeing that he’s still unconscious, maybe the two of you can answer them?”

Michael locks eyes with Lindsay. She shrugs. “I don’t know what we’ll be able to answer, but whatever.” Michael says.

“Is there a reason he doesn’t have any family visiting at this time?”

_ Is that legal to ask? _ Michael wonders. “He’s from England. His family is all there.”

“He’s here on a student visa.” Lindsay adds. “We’ve been sort of looking out for him since he got here.”

“I see. You talked to him on the phone before you called the station, I heard. What did he say to make you worried?”

_ You don’t have that information yourself?  _ “He kept shouting and saying he didn’t want to die. That’s all I could get out of him, then his phone stopped working or something and Lindsay and I decided we should go check in on him. And call 911.”

Officer Hanson nods again. He seems to like doing that. “And why did you call him in the first place?”

“To ask if he wanted a ride home. He doesn’t drive and I thought I’d be nice.” Michael crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “That’s seriously all we know, okay? I’m fucking exhausted and I know Lindsay is too. If you want more information come back when Gavin wakes up.”

Lindsay watches him with a frown. “And preferably when he’s healed enough to be able to concentrate.”

“I’ll see what can be done.” Officer Hanson turns to go. When he gets to the door, he stops. He turns back to them. “A bit of a warning-- there was conversation on site between the management on what to do now that Freddy’s Fazbear’s Pizza has had a fire. I believe they were thinking about pressing charges, but nothing has happened yet.”

“What?” Michael yells, but Officer Hanson is already gone. “Pressing charges? For fucking what?”

Lindsay looks at Gavin as he whimpers again. She speaks much quieter. “I mean, if Gavin did cause that fire they have plenty of reason to.”

“He’s a fucking college kid, Linds!” Michael lowers his voice to a loud whisper. “What are they going to get out of it? Insurance? I’d think a place like Freddy Fazbear’s would already have it!”

“Don’t yell at me, asshole!” Lindsay snaps.

Michael bits his tongue and doesn’t say anything else. He looks at his feet, burning with anger. “I have to piss.” He mutters, and gets up to stalk over to the little bathroom in the room.

  
  


***

  
  


Gavin sits on his floor and pushes his toy cars around. He’d gotten them for Christmas, and they’re still his favorites. He likes them even more than his friends. The boys at school don’t like his friends. They call them ‘dolls’. But they like his cars. They’ve tried to steal them before.

He smiles. The red car makes a squeaking noise. It didn’t used to, but mum says it’s because it’s been used so much. He doesn’t mind it. It makes it cooler, like it really is driving.

His mum walks in from the door on the right. “Gavin,” his mum says softly. “It’s time for bed, darling.”

Gavin frowns. “But I don’t wanna!”

She smiles at him. “I know. But if you go to sleep now, you’ll have plenty of time to play tomorrow. It’ll be Saturday, remember. You don’t have school tomorrow.”

He picks up his cars and gets in bed. It’s in the middle of the room, against the back wall. He likes it that way. His mum covers him up with the blankets and kisses his forehead.

“Goodnight, Gavin. Happy dreams.”

“Goodnight mum.”

She turns his light off and leaves. He snuggles into his blankets, but he can’t sleep. He rolls around, trying to get comfortable. He just can’t. Suddenly, he’s scared. The darkness hides monsters. What if there’s something in his room? Hiding in his closet? Ready to sneak in through his bedroom doors? Hiding under his bed?  _ Something is wrong. _

“Mum?” He calls. She doesn’t answer. There are no footsteps coming down the hall to check in on him. “Mum?”

Gavin shoves his blanket off. He picks up his torch from his nightstand and turns it on. His room is empty. His white closet doors are partially open, and he can see his clothes hanging. His lamp is off. _I want to turn it on._ Gavin slides off his bed and walks over to it.

It doesn’t turn on. He walks to his lightswitch. It doesn’t work, either. Gavin whimpers. He walks back to his bed and sits in front of it. He looks under his bed, but all he can see are his Mario pajamas.

“Mum!” He shouts, scared.

He runs to his left door and stands in front of it. He opens the door and looks down the hall. The entire house is dark.  _ I’m all alone with the monsters. No, I have my friends. Bear and Bird and Bunny and Fox.  _ He runs back to his bed and sits in front of it. He looks on his bed. A toy-sized monster leaps off as his torch touches it. Bear smiles at him from his pillow.

Gavin turns back and looks at his room. He runs to his closet and looks in. He can’t see anything. He runs to the right door. Out in the hallway, a monster breathes. Gavin sucks in a breath and tugs the door closed. He holds it closed with all his might.

_ Keep it out keep it out keep it out. _ He waits for it to leave and runs back to his bed and sits in front of it.  _ They want to kill me and eat me. I want my mum. I want my mum. _

Gavin shines his torch onto his bed, and two small monsters leap off. He runs to his closet and looks between the doors. A monster roars at him and snaps its teeth. He slams his closet doors together.  _ I don’t wanna die! _ He opens the doors again, just a little. This time there’s no monster, only his friend, Fox. Gavin smiles and runs back to his bed. Only Bear smiles at him from on top.

Something moves in the right hallway. Gavin runs to the door and holds it closed. He can hear breathing from the other side, like the monster is waiting for him to open it again. But soon it walks off, and Gavin opens the door and shines his torch down the hall. A monster steps out of view, grinning all razor-sharp teeth.

His torch flickers. He runs back to his bed and looks on it. Two small monsters leap off, screaming and giggling. Bear waves and points to his closet.  _ Is the monster back already? _ He runs to his closet and looks in. The monster inside grins at him, standing so tall that his head is almost hidden in his clothes. Gavin closes the doors, and counts to ten.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

He tries opening them again. Fox smiles at him and waves his hook. He runs back to his bed and points his torch at it. Only Bear. He runs to his left door and shines his torch into the hallway. A monster with golden fur gnashes its teeth and Gavin shuts the door in its face. _ I want my mum I want my mum.  _ He opens his door again and looks down the hallway. The golden monster is gone. He runs back to his bed, then to his closet again. The closet monster roars and snaps its teeth and Gavin forces the doors together.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

When he opens the door, only Fox is inside. He runs back to his bed. He runs to his right door and waits. Something giggles in the hallway. He closes the door, breathing hard. He doesn’t check it before running back to his bed. Bear isn’t the only thing on the bed. The head of a monster with glowing, red eyes and melted, black fur stares at him. Gavin screams and stumbles back.

E v e r y t h i n g

i s 

s o 

l o u d--


	6. Sixth Mistake Was Lying Through His Teeth

Gavin opens his eyes. Michael watches him do it, and watches as Gavin slowly looks around. His stomach flips. Gavin closes his eyes again and whimpers. Michael’s standing beside him in seconds, having crossed the room in three strides.

“Gav?” Michael whispers.

Gavin opens his eyes again and stares at him, eyes unfocused. “Mum?” His voice is raspy and hoarse and childlike.

Michael looks over at Lindsay, still standing in front of her own chair. She puts her hands over her mouth. He looks back at Gavin. “No, it’s… Michael.”

“Michael.” Gavin mumbles. He closes his eyes again. “Runnin’ from monsters, Michael.”

Michael forces a smile on his face. “No monsters here, Gav. Just you, me, and Lindsay. And the doctors.”

“Little tiny monster on my bed. They wanna eat me.”

If Gavin wasn’t covered in burns, Michael would pat him on the shoulder. Instead he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Nobody is trying to eat you, Gav. I promise. Lindsay and I are making sure of that.”

The door opens. Michael looks over, unsurprised to see the nurse. She smiles at him. “How’s he doing?”

“Not making much sense.” Michael admits. “But he’s talking.”

The nurse walks over and introduces herself. Gavin doesn’t react. She checks his pulse, his blood sugar, a thousand different things that Michael can’t name. Gavin goes along with it, whimpering a bit when she touches a part of him that hurts, which is most of him. Lindsay comes up beside Michael and puts her hand in his.

Finally, the nurse stops. “How are you feeling? Your friend said you were talking.”

Gavin looks at the ceiling. “Purple fan.”

The nurse purses her lips. “That doesn’t tell me how you’re feeling, unfortunately. How does your arm feel?”

Gavin slowly brings his eyes to her. “Can’t play with my race cars now.”

“Hm.” The nurse says. “No, I suppose you can’t. Can you tell me where you are right now? What your name is?”

“Gavin.”

“Do you know where you are?” The nurse presses.

Gavin looks around with the same slow speed. Michael doubts he actually sees any of it, with how unfocused his eyes are. “...home. Not home. I’m lost, doc.”

“Do you know what year it is?”

Gavin takes a long time to answer. Michael holds Lindsay’s hand tightly. “‘S night.”

Michael looks at the window. The blinds are closed, but light still streams in from the edges. It’s barely noon.

The nurse looks concerned. “Do you recognise the two people with me?” She gestures to Michael and Lindsay.

“Friends.” Gavin says. It looks like he tries to smile, but instantly regrets it. He closes his eyes again. “Bear and bird…” His breathing evens out again, and Michael knows he’s fallen asleep.

The nurse looks at them. “That’s… concerning, I’m not going to lie. Unfortunately, smoke inhalation can cause brain injuries, but we’d thought that with him still being able to breathe on his own that wouldn’t be a problem…”

Michael bristles. “What, you didn’t check his head when you brought him in?” He snarls.

“We did, actually. It’s possible we missed something. I’m liable to believe this is a response to the stress of the situation, though, rather than a physical injury.” The nurse writes notes down in his file. “I’ll have to send in someone from psych. The doctor may have a different opinion, though, so I’ll send him in next time Gavin wakes up. For all we know, he may be perfectly fine when he wakes up next.”

Michael lets Lindsay walk him back to their chairs and push him in one. The nurse watches and then bids her goodbyes, leaving the room as quickly as she came in. Michael runs his hand through his hair, and sighs.

“Fuck.”

Lindsay hums. “You said it.”

***

Gavin wakes up again a few hours later, and the doctor walks in before Michael even pulls himself from his chair. She nods to the two of them, then makes her way to Gavin.

“Hello Mr. Free. I’m Doctor Self. How are you feeling?” She asks.

“Stuck.”

“I can imagine. You’re pretty wrapped up there. Can you tell me where you are?”

Michael stands, walking over. Lindsay follows.

Gavin makes a sound between a whine and gasp. “No. I wanna go home.”

“You can’t go home yet. You’ve got some serious injuries. That’s why you’re here in the hospital.” Doctor Self looks at the machines.

“‘Cause I got bit?”

_ Bit? Bit by what? _ Michael looks at Lindsay. “Bit?” He mouths. She shrugs. Gavin watches them, but doesn’t seem to realize what they’re saying.

“You were in a fire, Mr. Free. Do you remember that?”

“There were monsters.” Gavin says. “They had teeth and wanted to eat me.”

“Did they.” Doctor Self says. She crosses her arms. “What did they look like?”

“Teeth.” Gavin’s eyes go wide. “Teeth!”

Michael ignores the knot in his stomach. “That was a dream, Gavin.”

Gavin looks at him. He looks like a child, scared and innocent and asking for their parent to  _ please check under the bed?  _ “Promise?”

“Promise, Boi.” Michael says.

Gavin visibly relaxes. “The purple monster too?”

“The purple monster too.” Michael says. “All fake.”

“But not the golden one.”

“That one too, Gav. Fake.”

Gavin shakes his head, grimacing. “No! It wants to kill me!”

Before Michael can say anything else, Doctor Self puts her hand on his shoulder. “I think you two should leave. We’re going to have to change his dressings soon, and I’m going to have someone from Psych come in and do an evaluation. You two should go home and get some sleep.”

“But-” Michael says.

“But nothing, Michael.” Lindsay says. “Gavin will be fine. Let’s go home.”

Lindsay leads him to the door. Michael looks back at Gavin.

“Bye-bye.” Gavin says.

“Bye, Gav.”

***

Michael eats his Big Mac, not really tasting it. Lindsay seems to be having the same problem. She pokes her fries with a finger and doesn’t pick any up. Three hours later, and neither of them have really talked. He just doesn’t know what to talk about. Gavin is delirious, on top of being physically injured. He can’t seem to remember their names, calling them ‘Bear’ and ‘Bird’. Finally, he sighs.

“I think we should sneak into the restaurant.”

Lindsay blinks. “What?”

“He keeps talking about monsters. He’s probably remembering the animatronics.” Michael says.

“So why do we have to sneak into Freddy Fazbear Pizza?”

_ To see if we can recover anything he left behind. To see what his working conditions may have been like. To check for a gas leak or something, just in case Gavin didn’t set the fire. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.  _ “I gotta do something.” He says finally. “I just… he was fine a week ago. Then he gets this job and goes batshit crazy. Even without the fire he was already losing it!”

“That’s harsh.” 

“It’s true!” Michael growls. “It’s true and we ignored it! So yeah, I want to go to the restaurant. I want to know what happened to Gavin.”

Lindsay stares at him, hard. He stares back. He’s not going to lose this debate, no way in hell. He’s going to the restaurant tonight, whether Lindsay joins him or not. After a few minutes, Lindsay sighs.

“Alright. We’ll sneak into Freddy Fazbear’s. But what are we going to look for, Michael?”

“What if there’s a gas leak? Something sparks, boom, fire. You breathe gas in, you start hallucinating.”

“Do you know how to find a gas leak?” Lindsay raises an eyebrow. “I’m not arguing, I’m just asking. You want to look for things, fine. Do you know how to look for them?”

Michael bites his tongue. He gets up to throw his food away. “No. But it’s worth a shot.”

***

Midnight. They wait until midnight, just to be sure. Then they creep in through the shattered front doors with flashlights, making sure not to be seen by anyone that might be around. The central area was clearly where the fire was worst. It’s filled with what were once tables and chairs, but are now burnt and twisted hunks of metal.

Michael swings his flashlight around. “Must be the eating area. Dining area? Whatever.”

“Yeah.” Lindsay says. “Stage is up there. Must be so kids can have dinner and a show.”

Michael follows her flashlight. The stage must have had curtains once, but if so they’d burned in the fire. Three animatronics stand on stage. They’ve burned too, but not nearly as bad as he would have thought. They’ve got scraps of furry exoskeletons still clinging to their metal insides. Just enough for him to recognise them.

The one at the microphone is a bear. It must be Freddy, then. The one beside it is a… chicken? Duck? One of the two, singed and clearly once bright yellow. The third is a rabbit holding what looks like a guitar. Chica and Bonnie, if Michael remembers correctly. But shouldn’t there be one more? He swears Gavin had talked about four animatronics.

He keeps his flashlight trained lower rather than higher to make sure he doesn’t trip over anything. It doesn’t work. His feet slip on ash and he crumples to the floor. He coughs. “Fuck.”

“You okay?” Lindsay asks. She makes her way careful over to help him up.

He groans. “Yeah. Fuck, that hurt.” He gets on his knees and picks his flashlight up. The beam shines on something familiar. “Is that your hammer?” He crawls over and picks it up. He hands it to Lindsay and stands.

“I guess it makes sense that he’d drop it.” Lindsay says. “The fire and all. Good thing it’s all made of metal.”

Michael grunts in agreement and looks around again.

“Woah! Look over here-- this one’s jaw is missing!” Lindsay says.

She’d made her way almost to the other side of the room while he looked around. Michael walks over. In a small area, which also must have had a curtain at one point, stands another animatronic. This one clearly had the worst of the fire-- not only is it missing its jaw, but all of its furry exoskeleton had burned off. Michael swallows down a lump in his throat.

“Wonder what happened to it?”

Lindsay raises an eyebrow. “The fire?”

“You think the fire took its jaw off?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Did you see back over there?” She gestures toward the stage. “That’s where the fire started. You can tell because the burning is the worst there.”

“…in the middle of the room?” He follows Lindsay.

“Here, on this table. See, it’s the most warped out of all the tables. The scorch marks are spreading out from this area-- and look, wires.”

Michael shines his light. Sure enough, there’s a bunch of burned-out wiring along the table and floor. And on the floor is something that looks like a light bulb socket. Michael reaches down and picks it up. “...I bought this for Gavin.” He realizes. “We went to the store and I bought a bunch of wiring and shit for him for a motion activated light.”

“So his light started the fire.” Lindsay says. “Whether he meant it or not.”

“There’s no way he meant that. But how does a light start a fire?” He looks around. “Maybe he didn’t connect the wires right or something. One spark catches the tablecloth and half the room is gone.” He shines back toward the stage, fully intending on mentioning the wiring in those lights.

Bonnie the rabbit is gone. Michael blinks and rubs his eyes. Nope. Still gone. “Linds, is it just me or is the stage missing an animatronic?”

“Uh, yeah. Definitely missing. Are we sure it was there earlier?”

Michael nods, but doesn’t say anything. He shines his flashlight around, confused. _ What the hell happened? _ He can’t find it. “...Let’s go down those hallways.”

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be a better idea to leave, Michael?”

He walks determinedly past the lone animatronic and down that hall. “Yep. There’s a security office here that Gavin worked in. We’re checking it out.”

Lindsay hurries to follow him. The hallway isn’t long, and there’s only two doorways. One, to a tiny storage closet with a mop and a bucket and not much else. The other room is what must be the security office. Michael steps in, noting how little of the area is burned. The fire had barely reached here.

“Why are there flashlights taped to the chair?” Lindsay asks.

“Guess he didn’t want to hold them.” Michael says. He steps over a file of what looks like crusting vomit. “...wait. Is that your cupcake?” He stops his beam on a cupcake with pink frosting and a candle pressed into the top. Googly eyes stare back at him. 

“He said he ate that.” Lindsay pouts.

“I’m more worried about the eyes, Linds. Why’d he dress it up?”

She doesn’t answer, but they’re both thinking about it. In the darkness, something screams. Michael starts, whipping around to look out the left door. Lindsay holds her hammer tighter. Footsteps sound down the hall, running more quickly than he thought possible. The lone animatronic appears in the doorway and leaps at them. Lindsay screams and swings the hammer. It hits the animatronic flat on top of its head and it crumbles to the ground.

“Holy shit!” Michael turns to run out the other door. His flashlight falls on Bonnie. “Holy shit!”

Bonnie grins at him.  **“No curSIng!”** It says.

Michael looks behind him. Lindsay puts her pack to him and lifts her hammer again. “I’m not afraid to swing again!” She threatens. She doesn’t sound scared at all.

_ God, I love her so much. _ Michael gives himself a shake. Not the time. He digs his lighter out of his pocket and flicks it on. Bonnie looks at it. “Yeah, take a good long look at this. I got fire in the palm of my hands. Wanna get burned the rest of the way?”

From the floor, the lone animatronic growls.  **“BuRnEd.”**

“Yeah, that’s what he said!” Lindsay says.

In the left hallway, a music box starts playing. It sends chills down Michael’s back. If this is what Gavin’s been going through, no wonder he’s been acting weird. Michael glances behind. The lone animatronic picks itself up, but doesn’t try to attack again. Its head is considerably more flat than it was before. In the left hallway, Freddy’s face lights up flashing as the music box plays its melody. In front of him, Bonnie stays still. Behind him, Chica appears.

“What do you want?” Michael asks. He’s not really sure they can fight their way out of this, so maybe talking is the way to go.

The music box stops, and Freddy laughs.  **“No grOWNupS.”**

“No grownups?” Lindsay asks. “Look, buddy, Michael and I are hardly out of our teens. We barely qualify as adults.”

**“Bad!”** Chica says.

**“HuRT.”** Bonnie grunts.

The lone animatronic lets out a metallic growl.  **“Go bACK to WherE You CAMe frOm!”**

“We will if you let us.” Lindsay says.

Michael nods. “Yeah. We were just looking for answers.”

**“AnswERs?”** The lone animatronic asks.

**“For whO?”** Freddy says.  **“WHaT SEcreTS?”**

Secrets? Michael glances behind. Freddy takes a step into the room. “Are there secrets?” Michael asks. 

**“SecreTS!”** Chica chirps.

**“HiDDEn!”**

**“No grOWNupS.”**

“You’re around ‘grownups’ all day. Why attack the people around at night?” Lindsay asks.

“That’s what you’re asking them?” Michael hisses. In front of him, Bonnie kneels. Michael steps back, bumping into Lindsay. “Uh…”

**“Bad groWN Up.”** Bonnie says. He opens his mouth wide.  **“ToOK thEm ANd hiD Them.”**

“Took who?” Michael asks.

**“LitTLe oNEs.”** Freddy says.

“Little ones? You mean kids?” Lindsay says. “Did someone do something to kids?”

**“Blood!”**

**“HiDDEn.”**

**“InsiDe uS.”**

Michael turns full around to look at Lindsay. She does the same. His flashlight illuminates her face. She’s pale and wide eyed and sweating. He probably looks similar. He looks back at Bonnie, still kneeling.

“I don’t know what to tell you. If someone was put inside of you guys… that fire definitely got rid of it. Especially you.” He looks at the lone animatronic.

The lone animatronic growls again.  **“TeLL!”**

“Tell… the authorities?”

**“TeLL!”**

**“FInd!”**

**“TruTh!”**

Michael swallows. “Okay. Okay, we’ll do that. But we have to leave to do that. We can’t stay here.”

It’s the longest 10 seconds of his life. Nothing moves. He barely breathes. Lindsay stands at the ready. But finally, Freddy steps back and disappears into the darkness. The lone animatronic growls one last time and follows. Bonnie and Chica leave together, and suddenly he and Lindsay are alone.

Michael lets out a breath. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”


	7. Seventh Mistake Was Giving Up

Gavin opens his eyes. He looks around. In a chair on the other side of the room, Michael sits. “Mikey?” He croaks.

Michael looks up, taking his head from his hands. He looks tired. “Gav?” He gets up and walks over. “How’re you feeling?”

“Hurt.” Gavin says. “Where’s… bird?”

“Bird?” Michael says. “Lindsay?”

Lindsay. Right. Bird. Lindsay. Lindsay. “Yeah.”

Michael shrugs. “She has to work tonight, so she’s home sleeping.”

Gavin moves his free arm so he can rub his face. It hurts, but it’s bearable. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Michael watches him with a frown. “Still out of it, then?”

What’s Michael on about? Out of it? Out of what? Because he called Lindsay Bird? ...Hasn’t he always called Lindsay Bird? Gavin rubs his eyes. He’s so confused. “Where’s Lindsay?”

Michael looks at him, frowning. “At home… sleeping. How, uh, how’s your head feeling? You look a bit cloudy.”

“Head feels fine.” Gavin giggles. “Hey, Michael, guess what?”

“What, Gav?”

“My foot doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Michael gives him a tired smile. “I guess the pain of your burns probably outweigh the pain of your foot.”

_ My burns? Oh, right. _ “Those don’t really hurt. Just my arm really.”

“Wait, really?”

“No. I keep forgetting I have burns. I don’t really feel them.” Gavin scratches his nose. “Did you and Bird work last night?”

Michael stills. He looks out the window. “...no, we didn’t.”

“You weren’t here.”

“We weren’t allowed to be, Gav. No visitors at night.”

“What did you do then?”

Michael runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that… You remember how yesterday I told you the ‘monsters’ were fake?”

_ The closet monster snaps its teeth at him. He slams the doors closed and hopes. When he opens it again all he can see is Fox.  _ “You said they were fake?”

Michael frowns. “I said they were dreams. You weren’t really talking sense, talking about monsters and teeth. Look, I told you they were dreams. I… they weren’t. I know that now.”

Gavin watches him talk. He tries to make sense of the words, but he can’t. He doesn’t remember any dreams, and definitely doesn’t remember talking about them. And teeth? Why would he be afraid of teeth? _ He closes the left door to keep the monster out.  _ “What?”

“Lindsay and I snuck into Freddy Fazbear’s last night. The animatronics were… alive.” Michael says.

“No they aren’t.” Gavin says quickly. His heart skips a beat. “They aren’t alive.”

“Yeah? Because the lone one jumped at us. They fucking spoke, too.” Michael crosses his arms.

The lone one? What lone one? Foxy? Fox? Not Fox. Fox is his friend… closet monster? He whimpers. “No. They aren’t alive. They don’t move. No--”  _ I want my mum.  _ He wipes tears out of his eyes. They sting his face.

“I don’t know why you won’t talk about it Gav. We know, you don’t have to lie to us.” Michael puts his hand gently on his casted shoulder.

Gavin sniffs. He swallows. “I’ll get in trouble.”

“Gav, I hate to tell you this, but you’re already in trouble. They think you set the place on fire on purpose.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t do that. It was the lightbulb.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Lindsay and I know that. Good luck proving it to the police. Look, why don’t they want you to talk about the animatronics?”

“I don’t know. Benjamin wouldn’t talk about it.” Gavin wipes more tears away. His heart thumps in his chest. He hiccoughs. “They don’t want to get in trouble for something. The animatronics like to shove people in the suits, you know.”

Michael’s brow furrows. “The animatronics do that?”

“To the night guards. They did it to the person I replaced. He said they liked to do it, when he spoke in the phone recordings.”

Michael works his jaw. “Yeah, they don’t seem to like adults. Called us ‘grown ups’ and called kids ‘little ones’.”

“You talked to them?”

“They trapped us in the office between hallways. Told us they didn’t like adults… and someone shoved a bunch of kids inside of them.”

Gavin gasps. He tries to speak, but his mouth can’t form words. He bites his lip.

Michael continues. “Yeah, so Lindsay and I promised to find the person that did it or something. I don’t fucking know how.”

Gavin closes his eyes.  _ The nightmare is only inches away from him in the hallway. He closes the door and runs to his bed again. But the golden monster grins at him from in front of his desk. Static. Static. Screaming, static, laughter, help, mum, he can’t breathe, Bear, please, help-- _

***

“-of course, by the time you’re released from the hospital the lawsuit will be well underway, so you can expect to go straight from here to the closest prison.”

Gavin snaps back into the conversation a good fifteen minutes after it first started. He’d zoned out mostly because he wasn’t interested, talking with Benjamin’s boss, the owner of the restaurant, a man aptly named David. He’d introduced himself jovially, noting that his name was the same as Gavin’s middle. Then he’d sat and talked about how in trouble Gavin is.

Gavin yawns. “Don’t really see what you’ll get out of sending me to prison.” In the corner of his eye, the flowers at his bedside turn to look at him. He ignores it.

“Justice, Gavin. You made a mistake, and now you need to make up for it. We’ve lost our building and our animatronics will need some serious work done on them if we want them to ever work again.” David smiles at him, jovial as ever.

Gavin looks at his flowers and makes a face. _ Can you believe this? _ “Right.” He mutters.

“Now, for the next reason for this meeting…” David looks him dead in the eye. “Have you happened to talk about your experience working at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza?”

“Of course not.” Gavin lies. He remembers Michael’s face, talking about murders and animatronics. “Do I look like an insane person?”

“You will if you try to share.” Still David smiles. Gavin, quite frankly, wants to crush his head between his hands. “It won’t be hard to convince the world you’re only a raving maniac. And, anything else fail… if you so happen to tell anyone, we can take care of them.”

The temperature in the room drops. Gavin bites his lip.  _ Why? What part are you trying to hide? The living animatronics? The death of the night workers? The possible death of a bunch of kids…and if the animatronics are upset about children dying, why would Foxy attack some of them in 1987? _

Gavin stays silent as David packs his things and leaves. What can he say? David knows the truth about the restaurant and doesn’t care. Whether Gavin set the building on fire on purpose or on accident won’t change anything. He’s stuck. He’s broken. He’s alone.

Gavin sighs and closes his eyes. The nurses will be around eventually to check on him and change his bandages. They told him at one point that his burns were severe enough to cause major nerve damage in some areas. He’s not sure Michael knows, but he’s not going to tell him. Michael doesn’t need to know he hasn’t felt pain in those areas. Michael already feels bad enough.

Michael already feels bad enough. Gavin already feels bad enough. He’s hurt, and lost, and full of a million questions he’ll never have answered because he’s going to prison the moment he’s well enough. Gavin sniffs and rubs his face. Michael would be better off without him. All Gavin’s done is be a burden. Get him into trouble. Be an absolute mess.  _ I don’t want to go to prison. I want to know the truth. I want David and everyone else to get in trouble for what they’ve hidden. But how can I when I’m..? _

He opens his eyes. His room is empty. Michael and Lindsay won’t be around until tomorrow. The nurses won’t be around for two hours at least. If he’s careful… Gavin shuffles around in bed, ignoring the pains around his body. He has something to do, and he’s going to do it. If he can force himself to go to work for a week despite his fear, he can do this. Even though he can’t bend his knee or use his arm. Even though he’s covered in burns down to his bone in some places. He’s not going to stay here.

Walking down the hallways is shockingly easy. Nobody bats an eye, not even the nurses and doctors. He doesn’t recognise any of them. They must not recognise him. And if he wasn’t well enough to be up… why would he be? He wouldn’t, so he must have permission to walk around. His entire body in bandages notwithstanding.

_ Can you hear me? _

Gavin walks out of the building unhindered. Nobody stops him as he walks down the road, either, though a few people walking smile widely. One step after another. Ignore the pain. Move past it. Don’t let it stop you.

_ I don’t know if you can hear me. _

He stops for a car. It drives by and the person inside looks a bit like someone he knows, but he can’t place their face.

_ I’m sorry. _

Gavin can’t feel his knee anymore. It had hurt, he knows it had, but now there’s only a slight feeling of  _ it’s there _ and nothing else. A pigeon watches him from the grass by the sidewalk. It hops, once, twice, three times. He wishes he could do that, too.

_ You’re broken. _

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza is a great deal worse looking than it had before the fire. The paint is still as chipped and faded as ever. But the glass doors have shattered, from the heat or something else. Fire had scorched as much of the outside as it could, reaching through doors and windows.

_ We are still your friends. _

He steps into the building. He hasn’t got a flashlight. He hasn’t got shoes. He hasn’t got anything but himself. Glass and other sharp bits cut his foot, but it hardly feels like anything on top of everything else. Gavin looks around in the darkness.

_ Do you still believe that? _

He walks into a table. He assumes it’s a table, because it’s the right height. He moves around it and walks forward with a little more caution.

_ I’m still here. _

Something else walks around in the darkness. He can’t see it, but he can hear. He follows the sound with his head, and when it stops, he speaks. “Mind giving me the lowdown?” He smiles, and his legs give out and he crumples to the ground.

_ I will put you back together. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that's read this! Let me know what you think in the comments. And don't worry, I already have a sequel planned and in the works, featuring the protagonist as (drum roll please) Michael! It'll probably be a few weeks before I start uploading that, so if you're interested, keep an eye out for it.


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